e 


*~sr 

Sentence 


The  Life  Sentence 


The  Life  Sentence 


By 

Victoria  Cross    fi* 

Author  of  "Life's  Shop  Window,'1  "The  Night  of 
Temptation,1'  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
THE  MACAULAY  COMPANY 


Published,  1914,  ft 
THE  MACAULAY  COMPANY 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I 9 

CHAPTER  II 84 

CHAPTER  III 105 

CHAPTER  IV ,     .  134 

CHAPTER  V       .......  157 

CHAPTER  VI 199 

CHAPTER  VII 222 


2134903 


The  Life  Sentence 


THE  LIFE  SENTENCE 

CHAPTER  I 

IT  was  a  perfect  day  in  June,  and  the  hot 
afternoon  sunshine  poured  down  on  the 
steel  tracks  of  the  Great  Western  line, 
making  them  glitter  like  burnished  silver 
as  the  sun  rays  danced  upon  them.  The 
express  from  London  swung  smoothly 
along,  mile  after  mile,  through  enchant- 
ing vistas  of  wavering  trees,  laughing 
meadows,  and  by  sparkling  streams,  re- 
flecting in  their  shallow  pools  the  cloud- 
less turquoise  of  the  sky. 

In  one  of  the  first-class  carriages  alone 
sat  two  passengers,   a  man  and  a  girl. 
9 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

The  man  sat  at  the  far  end  reading  a 
paper,  and  half  concealed  behind  it;  the 
girl  leant  forward  in  her  seat,  looking 
through  the  window,  and  the  sun  fell  on 
the  pastel  blue  of  her  dress  and  seemed  to 
linger  in  her  cloud  of  bright  hair,  under 
the  velvet  hat,  as  if  it  found  her  the 
prettiest  thing  to  rest  upon  and  wished  to 
caress  her.  And  she  was  so  pretty,  this 
girl,  although  her  nose  was  not  the  clas- 
sic shape,  nor  any  of  her  features  perfect. 
The  burnished  mass  of  her  hair  against 
the  silky  whiteness  of  her  skin,  the  blue 
eyes  like  great  clear  pools,  with  their 
dark  lashes,  under  their  soft  brown 
brows,  and  the  colour  of  the  mouth  like 
a  damask  rose,  these  were  the  birthday 
gifts  of  Nature  to  her  at  the  commence- 
ment of  her  sixteenth  year. 

As  she  gazed  out  now,  the  blue  eyes 
were  troubled;  there  was  a  shadow  in 
10 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

their  depths  which  deepened  when  she 
turned  her  head  for  a  moment  and  saw 
her  companion  was  still  hidden  behind 
the  newspaper.  She  looked  out  again  at 
the  ever-changing  landscape  with  a  sigh. 
The  extreme  care  that  had  evidently  been 
bestowed  upon  her  toilette,  the  beautiful 
and  somewhat  extravagant  dress,  the  un- 
certain expression  on  her  face,  the  slight 
wavering  flush  that  came  and  went  so 
quickly  in  her  cheeks,  all  suggested,  even 
to  the  most  careless  observer,  that  she  was 
a  bride,  and  the  new  dressing-case  beside 
her,  the  new  cloaks  on  the  opposite  seat, 
confirmed  this  fact. 

It  had  been  a  very  smart  wedding  that 
day  in  town,  for  the  bridegroom's  wealth, 
position,  and  status  made  it  so.  To  the 
girl  this  day  had  been  the  longest  in  her 
life — it  seemed  of  endless,  superhuman 
length.  When  had  it  begun?  It  seemed 
ii 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

ages  ago  that  she  had  risen  after  a  sleep- 
less night  and  commenced  to  move  in  the 
long  pageant  of  dressing  and  decorating 
herself,  of  receiving  her  bridesmaids,  of 
seeing  new  faces,  of  answering  congratu- 
lations; then  the  drive  to  the  church  in 
her  white  splendour,  the  beauty  of  the 
building,  the  scent  of  the  banks  of  flowers, 
the  wonderful  music  that  seemed  lifting 
her  soul  to  unknown  heights,  the  service, 
the  solemnity  of  the  moment  when  she 
knelt  on  those  marble  steps;  then  the  re- 
turn, that  seemed  so  swiftly  made  and  of 
which  she  could  remember  nothing,  ex- 
cept one  glorious,  golden  moment,  when 
the  man  beside  her  had  bent  over  her  and 
kissed  her.  That  moment  hung  in  her 
memory  and  blazed  there,  as  a  great  ruby 
seems  to  blaze  in  the  firelight  of  a  shad- 
owy room.  Then  again  more  glitter 
and  pomp  and  colour,  and  voices  and 
12 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

faces,  and  hurry  and  more  dressing,  and 
through  it  all  her  heart  was  beating, 
trembling,  almost  breaking  with  delight, 
for  she  loved  him,  this  man  she  had  mar- 
ried, and  all  this  idle  show  was  nothing 
to  her,  except  that  it  gave  him  to  her,  and 
her  to  him,  and  the  great  joy  of  that 
knowledge  ran  in  waves  all  over  her  be- 
ing, making  her  hands  shake  and  her 
eyes  swim.  It  was  with  difficulty  she 
saw  and  talked  and  thought  and  did  all 
that  was  required  of  her  in  order.  But 
now  it  was  over,  leaving  on  her  mind  a 
confused  vision  of  colour  and  splendour 
and  laughter  and  music  and  voices;  she 
had  passed  through  it  all,  and  now,  so 
quietly  and  swiftly  the  great  train  was 
bearing  them — them — together,  into  the 
heart  of  the  green,  silent  country. 

And  now  she  was  troubled.     Why  did 
he  read  the  paper?     Why  did  he  read 
13 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

that  paper?  The  rhythmic  thud,  thud  of 
the  train  beneath  her  feet  seemed  repeat- 
ing the  words  and  hammering  them  into 
her  brain! 

This  was  her  wedding  journey,  and  it 
was  not  going  quite  right;  that  was  the 
half-formed  thought  in  her  brain.  It 
was  quite  true  she  knew  nothing  of  wed- 
ding journeys;  this  was  her  first;  she  had 
no  experience.  Perhaps  they  were  like 
this,  after  all!  She  knitted  her  brows  on 
the  smooth,  tranquil  forehead,  till  they 
looked  like  a  hard  black  line.  She  was 
trying  to  recollect  not  what  she  had  read, 
for  she  had  never  been  allowed  to  read 
anything  about  such  things,  but  all  that 
she  had  thought,  which  had  led  her  to  ex- 
pect something  different. 

That  kiss  in  the  brougham!  How 
delightful  it  had  been!  When  would  he 
kiss  her  again,  she  wondered.  They 
14 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

were  alone  in  the  carriage;  it  was  full  of 
sun  and  so  quiet,  with  its  soft,  onward, 
rocking  movement,  and  the  maze  of 
bright  green  woodlands  beyond  the  win- 
dows. It  was  just  the  place  to  lean  her 
head  on  his  shoulder  and  feel  his  arm 
about  her  and  be  kissed! 

She  turned  again  and  looked  at  him, 
still  absorbed  in  his  reading.  He  was  a 
man  of  about  fifty-eight,  and  though  the 
disparity  of  years  between  him  and  his 
bride  of  sixteen  was  at  once,  of  course, 
apparent,  still  any  judge  of  human  na- 
ture looking  at  him  would  know  that  he 
was  a  man  whom  women  had  loved  at 
every  age  and  would  continue  to  love,  till 
the  hour  of  his  death,  and  that  at  fifty- 
eight  he  was  as  dangerous  to  their  peace 
of  mind  as  at  twenty-eight  or  thirty- 
eight.  His  figure,  stretched  out  easily  in 
the  carriage  as  he  sat  in  the  extreme  cor- 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

ner,  had  still  all  the  litheness  and  sym- 
metry of  youth;  it  was  slim,  athletic- 
looking,  finely  proportioned,  and  had  all 
that  natural  grace  about  it  that  comes 
from  strength  and  use  of  that  strength. 
If  sloth  is  not  one  of  the  deadly  sins,  as 
our  ancestors  considered,  it  is  certainly 
cursed  with  a  deadly  punishment.  Sloth 
kills  beauty.  This  man's  active  energy 
throughout  his  life  had  preserved  all  that 
beauty  of  outline  and  contour  that  the 
sloth  and  ease  of  middle  life  ordinarily 
destroys.  A  small  head  was  well  set  on 
a  long  neck,  and  it  would  be  very  difficult 
amongst  Englishmen  to  find  a  profile  to 
match  this  one  in  straightness  and  dis- 
tinction; the  face,  like  the  figure,  had  a 
clean-cut  hardness,  that  generally  be- 
longs to  youth  alone;  the  skin,  though 
lined  by  the  emotions  and  passions  of 
forty  years,  was  clear,  fine  in  texture  and 
16 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

lightly  tanned,  showing  up  on  its  pale 
brown  tint,  the  deep  black  hair  now 
growing  a  little  thin  and  lined  with  grey; 
the  eyebrows  were  straight  and  black  on 
a  good  forehead;  and  the  nose,  high- 
bridged  and  fine,  matched  in  beauty  the 
kind  mouth  and  perfectly  modelled  chin. 
As  he  read  on,  unconscious  of  her  gaze, 
the  girl  sat  and  looked  at  him  in  a  trance 
of  pleasure,  her  eyes  fixed  on  his  face, 
now  visible  above  the  folded  paper,  her 
hands  clasped  hard  together  in  her  lap. 
How  she  loved  him,  worshipped  him, 
adored  him!  There  was  nothing — no, 
nothing — in  this  wide  world  she  would 
not  do  for  him.  To  die  for  him,  that 
would  be  quite  easy.  But  she  would  do 
more;  she  would  live  in  agony,  die  by 
torture,  be  burnt  or  stoned  to  death,  if 
this  man  asked  it,  wished  it,  smiled  on 
her  in  reward.  Such  was  her  feeling, 
17 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

such  is  all  virgin  love ;  it  is  reverence, 
worship,  adoration.  How  happy  she 
was!  she  reflected.  What  a  priceless 
thing  to  have  won  his  love !  And  he  must 
love  her,  for  he  had  everything,  he  was 
so  rich — she  remembered  her  mother  had 
told  her  that — and  she  had  nothing;  she 
was  poor,  and  he  had  lands  and  estates 
and  castles  and  houses  and  money  with- 
out limit,  and  every  girl  and  every  mother 
in  town,  so  her  mother  had  said,  had 
wanted  him  in  marriage,  and  he  had  seen 
these  girls,  beautiful  girls  with  wealth 
and  titles  and  girls  of  noble  houses  that 
he  could  have  allied  himself  with,  and  he 
had  left  them  all  to  choose  her — her  who 
had  nothing!  How  wonderful  it  all  was ! 
His  face,  how  it  enchanted  her,  lean- 
ing back  in  the  shadow  of  the  curtained 
window!  Her  mother's  talk  before  the 
wedding  had  been  all  of  his  possessions, 
18 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

of  what  he  could  give  her,  do  for  her,  but 
the  girl  had  hardly  listened.  His  castles 
might  have  been  cardboard  toys,  for  her. 
The  thought  that  leapt  before  her,  turn- 
ing all  her  being  to  joy,  when  her  mother 
spoke  of  marriage,  was  of  the  moment 
when  this  face  should  bend  over  her, 
these  arms  hold  her.  But  her  parents 
had  never  mentioned  anything  like  that. 
They  had  pointed  out  how  excellent  it 
would  be  for  her  to  accept  him,  and 
asked  whether  she  would  do  so,  and  she 
had  murmured  "Yes"  with  downcast 
eyes,  and  then  fled  away  to  her  room,  to 
throw  herself  face  downwards  on  her 
bed  and  dream  of  his  brows  and  eyes. 

And  now  it  was  all  done  and  he  was 
hers,  and  her  heart  beat  so  with  delight; 
she  could  hardly  breathe  as  she  sat  and 
looked  at  him. 

Suddenly  the  man  laid  down  the  paper, 
19 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

his  eyes  fell  upon  hers,  before  she  could 
avert  them.  Her  face  was  strained  and 
pale,  her  lips  half  open. 

That  look  on  a  woman's  face  was  too 
familiar  to  him  to  misread  it  for  an  in- 
stant. He  leant  forward,  and  drew  her 
into  his  arms. 

"My  darling,  I  thought  you  were 
reading  too!"  and  he  glanced  at  the  illus- 
trated and  comic  papers  which  littered 
the  opposite  seat. 

The  girl  put  her  lips  against  his  neck. 
"Reading!  How  could  I  read  now,  and 
why  should  I  when  I  have  you  to  look 
at?"  The  words  were  almost  a  sob. 

The  man's  face  grew  a  shade  paler,  a 
look  of  anxiety  contracted  his  brows. 

"Sweetheart,  you  spoil  me!  You  must 
not  say  such  things." 

"Why  not?"  came  in  the  trembling  ac- 
cents from  the  soft  lips  on  his  neck. 
20 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

''Now  we  are  married  I  can  say  anything 
to  you,  can't  I?" 

The  man  pressed  her  to  him,  and 
stroked  the  soft  loop  of  her  hair  that 
pushed  out  below  her  hat  brim;  and  the 
girl  lay  still  in  his  clasp,  and  shivered 
with  delight  at  his  touch.  He  looked 
worried  and  troubled,  and  the  same  cloud 
that  had  been  in  her  eyes  as  she  looked 
out  at  the  landscape,  grew  up  now  in  his 
as  he  turned  them  away  from  her  form 
in  his  arms,  through  the  window.  After 
a  minute  he  drew  her  head  up  gently 
from  his  shoulder,  turned  her  face  to 
him,  and  kissed  her  as  he  had  done  in  the 
brougham;  and  all  Paradise  seemed  to 
open  before  the  girl,  and  all  the  music 
of  the  spheres  seemed  singing  in  her  ears 
as  he  did  so.  It  was  only  for  a  moment; 
then  he  put  her  from  him  gently  and 
rose  from  his  seat. 

21 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"We  are  nearly  there,"  he  remarked, 
as  he  began  to  gather  together  the  papers 
and  take  her  sunshade  and  scarf  from  the 
hat-rack. 

A  chill  fell  over  the  girl.  It  was  not 
quite  right.  There  was  some  shadow, 
some  thin  impalpable  wall  between  them. 
What  was  the  matter?  That  kiss  was 
so  divine,  but  so  short.  Why  did  he  not 
prolong  it?  Why  did  he  not  wish  to? 
She  sat  quite  still  and  silent  in  her  seat; 
that  delightful  fear  that  tinges  all  a 
young  girl's  adoration  for  an  older  man 
was  upon  her.  She  watched  him  as  he 
collected  their  things,  not  daring  to  speak. 

"There  is  the  old  place,"  the  man  said, 
after  a  moment,  looking  through  the  win- 
dow. "That's  Carlingford  Towers; 
they  look  fine  in  this  soft  light.  Does 
that  view  console  you  now  for  having 
foregone  the  regular  honeymoon?  Does 

22 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

it  reconcile  you  to  settling  down  there 
with  an  old  fogey  like  me?" 

He  drew  the  girl  forward  to  the  win- 
dow. A  magnificent  block  of  old  grey 
stone  buildings  showed  softly  against  the 
luminous  sky,  the  gold  of  which  was 
melting  slowly  into  rose.  Velvet  lawns 
like  huge  emeralds  lay  round  the  Towers 
to  the  south  and  west;  on  the  bleak  north 
they  turned  their  back,  nestling  against  a 
slope  of  glorious  trees. 

Carlingford  Towers  was  supposed  to 
be  the  most  beautiful  seat  in  the  county, 
and  the  girl  looked  out  upon  it  with  un- 
seeing eyes. 

"I  don't  care  where  it  is  or  where  I 
have  to  settle  as  long  as  I  am  with  you," 
she  said  in  a  very  low  tone;  and  looking 
down  at  the  slight  brown  hand  that  yet 
had  such  tremendous  power  in  it,  she 
longed  to  lean  down  and  press  her  lips 
23 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

to  it  where  it  rested  on  the  window-sill, 
but  not  daring  to,  she  stood  there  motion- 
less and  afraid. 

The  man  did  not  answer,  and  she  saw 
his  face  was  very  pale  and  grave  as  he 
looked  towards  the  Towers. 

A  carriage  was  waiting  for  them  at 
Carlingford  Station,  and  as  the  train 
slowed  to  a  standstill  and  they  descended 
in  the  flood  of  warm  sunlight,  filled  with 
the  fragrance  of  roses  and  jasmine,  she 
forgot  for  a  moment  the  chill  that  seemed 
settling  round  her  heart;  and  then,  just 
as  she  turned  to  speak  to  her  maid,  who 
had  come  up  to  take  her  dressing-case, 
she  heard  a  voice  behind  her  say — 

"Ah,  'tis  an  unlucky  day  for  sure !  The 
poor  master  ought  never  to  have  mar- 
ried." 

She  turned  quickly,  and  saw  two  old 
farm  labourers,  as  they  seemed  to  her, 
24 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

close  beside  the  train,  watching  the 
alighting  of  the  pair  and  the  arrangement 
of  their  luggage.  Her  husband  had  gone 
forward,  her  maid  was  waiting.  She 
walked  on.  In  another  moment  she  was 
in  the  carriage,  driving  through  the 
sweet-scented  air  under  the  rosy  sky  to 
her  future  home.  The  first  notes  of  the 
nightingale  came  tremblingly  through 
the  golden  evening,  but  her  ears  were  deaf 
to  the  music,  they  seemed  seared  by  those 
words  just  heard  at  the  station. 

When  they  reached  the  Towers  she  had 
no  more  time  for  thought — the  garden, 
the  great  grey  pile  itself  of  buildings 
rising  with  so  much  stately  grandeur 
against  the  golden  sky,  the  lovely  trees, 
all  claimed  her  attention.  'He  seemed  to 
wish  her  to  admire  them,  so  in  obedience 
to  his  wish  she  threw  herself  into  enthusi- 
astic praise  of  all  these  things. 
25 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Then  there  was  the  great  hall  where 
they  entered — the  tapestries,  the  armour, 
the  old  servants — and  then  she  was 
separated  from  him  and  carried  off  to 
dress,  yet  one  more  troublesome  dressing 
— the  third  in  that  endless  day. 

Still,  she  was  consoled  by  the  mirror, 
when,  after  an  hour,  she  stood  before  it 
ready  to  go  to  dinner  with  him.  Her 
gown  was  of  the  palest  rose,  embroidered 
with  silver.  It  was  cut  low,  and  on  her 
firm  white  breast  rested  her  only  orna- 
ment— a  round  pendant  of  diamonds  with 
the  word  "Bruce,"  the  one  word  in  all  the 
languages  of  the  world  for  her — her  hus- 
band's name — written  in  rubies  across  it. 

What  a  vision  she  was  with  her  sunny 

golden  hair  and  turquoise  eyes  and  those 

round  white  arms,  dimpled  and  snowy, 

clasped  by  the  gold  and  diamond  brace- 

26 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

lets  Bruce  had  given  her!  The  beauty  of 
her  own  image  soothed  her;  a  delicious 
sense  of  power  came  to  her.  Only  six- 
teen, and  with  nothing  and  yet  so  much  I 
She  had  this  to  give.  And  that  was  all 
the  use  of  her  beauty  in  her  eyes.  She 
wanted  it  all,  but  only  for  this,  just  to  de- 
light and  please  this  one  man.  She 
smiled  back  at  herself,  her  eyes  were  radi- 
ant, her  lips  curled  with  laughter  and  red 
and  warm.  With  steps  the  grass  would 
hardly  have  bent  under,  she  went  down 
the  great  staircase. 

Bruce  was  waiting  at  the  foot  of  it  for 
her.  How  splendid  he  looked!  she 
thought.  What  a  fitting  master  for  all 
this  state  and  grandeur  round  them!  and 
a  rush  of  devotion  filled  her  as  her  eyes 
took  in  the  beauty  of  his  face  and  figure 
and  carriage.  She  stopped  a  few  steps 
27 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

from  the  last.  Had  she  followed  her  in- 
stinct she  would  have  sunk  to  her  knees 
at  his  feet  and  taken  his  hands  to  kiss. 

"How  lovely  you  look,  my  sweet!"  he 
said,  looking  up  at  her  as  she  paused  a 
little  above  him.  "Come,  you  must  be 
hungry,  I  am  sure.  I  arranged  to  have 
dinner  in  the  little  dining-room.  The 
great  hall  seems  desolate.  In  the  little 
room  we  shall  be  closer  together!" 

They  were  standing  side  by  side  now, 
and  he  took  her  arm  and  pressed  it.  The 
girl,  looking  up,  felt  thrilled  through 
and  through  with  love  for  him,  with  feel- 
ings she  could  not  express,  and  in  silence 
they  walked  into  the  dining-room. 

During  dinner  the  servants  were  in  the 
room,  and  only  indifferent  subjects  were 
discussed.  The  girl  talked  and  answered 
mechanically.  The  flower-laden  table, 
the  silver  branching  candlesticks,  the 
28 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

gleam  of  the  glass,  the  ruby  and  topaz 
colours  of  the  wines,  swayed  in  an  indis- 
tinct vision  before  her.  When  the  des- 
sert had  been  set  on  the  table  and  they 
were  at  last  left  alone,  a  silence  fell  upon 
them,  in  which  it  seemed  to  her  the  beat- 
ing of  her  heart  must  be  audible.  She 
sat  still  in  her  place,  looking  at  him 
through  the  wreath  of  white  roses  and 
smilax  that  crowned  the  table.  He 
looked  very  grave  and  preoccupied — al- 
most as  if  he  were  unconscious  of  her 
presence.  How  long  they  sat  there  in  si- 
lence the  girl  did  not  know,  ages  of  time 
seemed  flowing  heavily  over  her  head. 
She  only  felt  she  did  not  dare  to  move  nor 
speak.  At  last  he  rose  somewhat  ab- 
ruptly and  came  over  to  her. 

"Are  you  not  very  tired,  Flora?  You 
must  be.  Would  you  like  to  go  to  your 
room  now?" 

29 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

The  girl  rose  and  stood  before  him,  her 
eyes  were  cast  down.  It  seemed  as  if 
iron  were  on  the  lids  and  she  could  not 
raise  them  to  meet  his.  A  great  unhappi- 
ness,  a  sense  of  loss,  of  desolation,  of  fear, 
was  closing  round  her.  She  could  not 
tell  why,  nor  could  she  find  any  words 
to  express  her  feelings. 

"As  you  wish,"  she  murmured  almost 
in  a  whisper. 

Bruce  bent  over  her,  clasped  her,  kissed 
her,  held  her  to  his  breast  for  one  mo- 
ment, then  he  released  her.  Mechanic- 
ally the  girl  moved  with  him  to  the  door. 
He  opened  it  for  her  and  stood  back. 
She  hesitated  on  the  threshold.  Oh,  how 
she  longed  to  find  her  voice,  to  ask  him  if 
he  were  not  coming  with  her,  if  he  would 
come  to  her,  but  the  words  stayed  frozen 
on  her  lips!  She  did  not  know  what  was 
expected  of  her — perhaps  it  would  not 
30 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

be  right  for  her  to  speak!  Her  great 
terror  of  offending  him  conquered  her 
natural  instinct.  She  passed  out  in  si- 
lence, her  heart  bursting  with  all  she  left 
unuttered,  and  went  slowly  up  the  great 
staircase.  Halfway  up  she  heard  the 
door  below  gently  close.  She  went  on 
up  to  her  room,  and  as  she  entered  it  she 
caught  sight  of  her  own  reflection  in  a 
long  mirror  facing  her.  She  shut  the 
door,  and  then  crossed  with  quick  step 
to  her  own  reflection.  As  she  looked 
at  it,  the  load  seemed  to  roll  off  her  heart. 

"How  silly  I  am!"  she  thought,  smil- 
ing at  it.  "Of  course  he  will  come;  he  is 
coming." 

There  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  and  her 
maid  entered,  bearing  on  her  arm  her 
mistress'  lilac  silk  dressing-gown. 

"Shall  I  undress  you  now,  madam?" 

Flora    hesitated.     Then    she    looked 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

again  at  the  long  mirror.  She  was  so 
lovely  in  that  glow  of  rose  satin  with 
the  diamonds  blazing  on  her  breast,  and 
her  gold  hair  all  bound  up  with  pearls. 
No,  when  he  came  he  should  see  her  like 
this  again ;  then  he  could.  .  .  . 

She  turned  to  the  maid;  a  great  wave 
of  crimson  flowed  up  over  her  throat  and 
fair  face  to  the  edge  of  her  hair. 

"No,  Aline,  I  am  not  ready  yet,  and— 
and  I  don't  think  I  shall  want  you  again. 
Please  go  to  bed  when  you  like." 

The  maid  bowed  impassively,  laid  the 
lilac  robe  on  the  bed,  and  withdrew, 
noiselessly  shutting  the  door  after  her. 

Flora  stood  alone  and  looked  round. 
It  was  a  large  room  that  she  found  her- 
self in,  and  beautifully  decorated  and 
furnished,  in  the  French  style,  with  every- 
thing in  it  to  make  it  light  and  brilliant, 
contrasting  sharply  with  the  heavy  kind 
32 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

of  furnishing  that  prevailed  in  all  the 
other  rooms  at  the  Towers.  There  were 
beautiful  inlaid  tables  from  Italy,  ex- 
quisite vases  of  Sevres  on  the  white 
mantelpiece,  deep  Florentine  mirrors  on 
the  satin-covered  walls,  but  the  girl  no- 
ticed nothing  of  all  this.  She  walked 
restlessly  about,  backwards  and  forwards, 
with  noiseless  feet,  on  the  white  velvet 
pile  of  the  carpet,  nervous  and  agitated, 
like  a  young  lioness  turned  into  a  new 
cage.  When  would  he  come?  That  was 
her  single  thought.  This  beautiful, 
lonely  room,  these  lights  and  flowers, 
these  rich  curtains  and  hangings,  these 
priceless  inanimate  objects  brought  from 
the  ends  of  the  earth,  what  were  they  to 
her?  Could  they  speak  to  her,  comfort 
her,  caress  her? 

She  wanted  Bruce  so  much.     Her  body 
was  tired,  wearied  out.     She  wanted  to 
33 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

end  this  interminable  day;  to  be  taken 
into  his  arms  and  rest  there  against  his 
heart  for  hours  and  hours  and  hours,  and 
whether  she  woke  again  from  that  sleep 
or  not  seemed  to  be  of  little  account  to 
her. 

Minutes  passe'd  by.  There  was  no 
sound  except  the  soft  silvery  tone  of  the 
French  clock,  and  its  delicate  clash  as  it 
marked  every  quarter  go  by.  The  girl 
grew  more  impatient  every  moment,  and 
an  impulse  of  anger  and  indignation 
against  him  rose  in  her  from  time  to  time 
to  be  instantly  suppressed.  "He  does  not 
know,  certainly  he  does  not  know  how 
much  I  want  him  to  come,"  she  told  her- 
self. At  last  in  the  silence  there  was  a 
knock  at  the  door.  With  an  electric 
shock  of  extreme  joy,  she  sprang  from  her 
chair.  That  was  certainly  Bruce.  She 
ran  to  the  door  and  threw  it  wide  open, 
34 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

her  figure  expanded,  her  eyes  dilated, 
beautiful  as  a  woman  can  only  be  when 
she  really  loves.  The  footman  stood 
there  with  a  tray  of  tea-things  in  his 
hands.  That  was  all.  She  drew  back. 
The  man  advanced  respectfully,  and  set 
the  tray  on  the  nearest  table. 

"Mr.  Challoner  thought  you  would 
like  your  tea  served  here,"  he  murmured. 

The  girl  made  a  motion  of  assent. 
Her  throat  seemed  closed,  choking  her. 
For  an  instant  she  longed  wildly  to  de- 
tain the  servant,  to  say,  "Where  is  your 
master?  What  is  he  doing?  Why  is  he 
not  here?  Find  him,  tell  him  to  come  to 
me,"  but  she  said  nothing.  The  man  left 
the  room.  Then  she  thought  suddenly, 
why  not  write  a  little  note,  why  not  send 
a  message  to  Bruce?  There  were  bells 
there;  in  a  moment  she  could  call  a  serv- 
ant to  take  it  to  him.  She  crossed  the 
35 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

room  to  a  writing-table  and  drew  out  the 
paper  and  an  envelope.  Then  she 
stopped  again.  What  should  she  say? 
"How  silly  I  am!"  she  thought,  glancing 
at  the  clock.  "It  is  quite  early  yet,  only 
ten." 

She  left  the  note  unwritten,  and  went 
back  to  the  armchair  and  flung  herself 
into  it.  The  table  with  the  tea-things  on 
it  was  close  to  her.  She  poured  out  some 
tea  and  drank  it.  Then  she  leant  back  in 
the  chair,  each  slender  white  hand  grasp- 
ing its  velvet  arm,  her  eyes  on  the  clock, 
waiting.  The  quarters,  the  halves,  the 
hours  went  by,  gently  toned  out  in  the 
stillness,  and  as  they  went  that  curious 
silence  of  the  night  settled  down  upon 
the  room.  The  slight  sounds  that  had 
come  from  the  garden  below  ceased. 
The  occasional  footfall  passing  her  door 
also  ceased.  Now  there  was  nothing. 
36 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

The  day  had  gone ;  the  night  was  in  full 
sway,  and  that  also  was  passing.  It  was 
so  late.  The  thought  now  in  her  mind 
was  not,  he  has  not  come,  but  he  will  not 
come.  Nervous,  suffocated  with  distress, 
and  with  sharp  anxiety  beginning  to  grow 
up  in  her,  she  left  her  chair,  and  began  to 
pace  the  length  of  the  room  again.  A 
thousand  thoughts  like  burning  arrows 
seemed  flying  in  a  storm  through  her 
brain.  Perhaps  he  was  ill!  Perhaps  he 
had  gone  out  in  the  grounds  and  some 
accident  had  happened  to  him!  Perhaps 
he  was  lying  somewhere  needing  help! 
Possessed  with  this  idea,  she  ran  suddenly 
across  the  room,  pulled  open  her  door, 
and  looked  out  into  the  blackness.  The 
corridor  was  unlighted,  it  was  quite  dark, 
but  before  her  yawned  the  great  well  of 
the  staircase,  and  at  the  bottom  of  that 
some  dim  lights  were  burning.  Should 
37 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

she  go  and  seek  him?  But  the  place  was 
so  large,  she  had  no  idea  how  to  find  her 
way  about  in  it.  All  was  black  and  quite 
still,  except  at  intervals  came  to  her  the 
muffled  baying  of  the  great  hounds  from 
the  courtyard  and  the  lower  passages  of 
the  house,  where  they  were  allowed  to 
roam  loose  at  night.  If  she  went  out  into 
this  waste  of  unknown  corridors  and 
courts  and  rooms,  could  she  ever  find 
her  way  back?  And  if  he  should  come 
in  her  absence?  She  shivered  as  she 
stood  looking  out  into  the  blackness. 
After  a  time  she  drew  back  into  the  room. 
She  could  rouse  the  servants,  of  course, 
and  inquire  from  them  about  him,  and  so 
find  out  if  he  were  safe  and  well ;  but  then 
— if  he  were!  If  it  were  only  his  wish  to 
stay  away  from  her!  How  angry  he 
would  be  that  she  should  draw  the  whole 
household  to  witness !  No,  no,  she  could 
38 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

not  do  that.  There  was  nothing  she 
could  do  but  wait  and  suffer,  till  he,  of 
his  own  free  will,  appeared.  She  gently 
reclosed  her  door  and  went  over  to  the 
mirror,  to  gaze  upon  herself  with  de- 
spairing eyes.  It  was  all  so  lovely — the 
delicate  flush  of  her  cheeks,  the  grief  of 
the  wide,  lustrous  eyes,  the  heaving  white- 
ness of  her  bosom,  where  now  the  blood- 
red  ruby  word  "Bruce"  lay  like  a  brand 
upon  it. 

The  clock  toned  softly  two  as  she  stood 
there,  and,  looking  up,  she  saw  a  white- 
ness beyond  the  satin  curtains  of  the  win- 
dows. It  was  dawn.  She  went  to  them 
and  tore  them  back  from  the  panes,  her 
hot  hand  crushed  the  white  satin  and  al- 
most wrenched  it  from  its  hangings. 
.With  burning  eyes  she  looked  out  at  all 
the  beautiful  grounds  that  stretched  sleep- 
ing round  the  Towers.  All  was  calm  and 
39 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

tranquil,  pale  and  dim,  in  the  pure,  pearly 
whiteness  of  the  dawn. 

The  night  was  over,  and  she  had  spent 
it  alone!  Tears  rushed  to  her  eyes;  sud- 
den fatigue  and  pain  seemed  to  envelope 
her  from  head  to  foot.  She  let  fall  the 
curtain  and  walked  unsteadily  back  into 
the  room,  towards  the  bed.  She  could 
stand  up  no  longer.  She  was  so  very, 
very  tired.  The  bed,  beautiful  in  all  its 
details  and  covered  with  a  white  satin 
quilt  on  which  was  emblazoned  in  gold 
the  arms  and  crest  of  the  Challoners 
swam  before  her  eyes.  She  threw  her- 
self upon  it  in  a  passion  of  suffocating 
sobs.  Disappointed,  bitterly  wounded, 
hurt,  and  amazed,  she  lay  with  the  rough 
edges  of  all  these  feelings  pressing  upon 
her,  and  when  at  last  fatigue  conquered 
everything  and  shut  her  tear-blinded  eyes, 
40 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

it  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  were  sleeping 
upon  knives. 

Just  as  the  clock  was  toning  eight  she 
woke  again.  The  room  was  full  of  the 
sunlight  that  struggled  through  the  cur- 
tains. She  heard  the  notes  of  the  birds 
beyond  the  windows.  She  sprang  up. 
She  was  still  clothed  in  her  dress  of  last 
night.  In  fact,  it  was  impossible  for  her 
to  undress  without  help.  What  should 
she  do  now?  She  must  ring  for  her 
maid.  Her  face  flushed  crimson  as  she 
thought  of  revealing  her  lonely  vigil  to 
the  servant,  but  this  impulse  of  vanity  was 
swamped  almost  immediately  in  the  flood 
of  anxiety  that  swept  over  her.  Well,  if 
anything  had  happened  to  Bruce,  it  must 
be  known  by  now  in  the  household.  She 
would  be  told.  White  and  with  trem- 
bling hand  she  rang  her  bell.  A  few  sec- 
41 


onds  and  the  maid  appeared;  neat,  with 
a  perfectly  impassive  face,  the  woman  en- 
tered. Her  eyes  took  in  her  mistress's  at- 
tire, the  still  braided  hair,  the  pale,  tear- 
stained  face  and  red  eyes,  but  not  a  move- 
ment, not  a  change  of  expression,  passed 
over  her  face. 

"Will  you  please  take  this  dress  off, 
Aline,  and  undo  my  hair." 

How  she  longed  to  ask  about  him, 
where  he  was!  But  his  name  burnt  like 
fire  in  her  throat.  She  could  not  utter  it. 
Nothing  had  happened,  she  felt  sure,  or 
she  would  be  told.  Only  a  feverish  anx- 
iety possessed  her  now  to  get  dressed 
and  go  to  him,  to  be  with  him  alone  and 
have  all  this  anguish  he  had  given  her 
explained. 

The  maid  made  no  remark  whatever. 
Silently  she  unfastened  the  crushed  and 
tumbled  dress  and  laid  it  on  the  unused 
42 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

bed.  Silently  the  whole  toilette  of  the 
girl  was  undone  and  done  again,  until  she 
stood  pale  but  fresh  in  a  morning  cotton 
frock,  with  her  hair  smooth  now  and  shin- 
ing under  a  simple  band  of  ribbon. 

"Master  wished  me  to  ask  if  you  would 
breakfast  here  or  downstairs?"  the  maid 
asked  quietly. 

Flora  flushed  painfully;  she  felt  in- 
clined to  burst  into  tears.  The  matter- 
of-fact  inquiry  seemed  to  fall  like  a  blow 
on  her. 

'Where — where — is  Mr.  Bruce?"  she 
asked  falteringly,  turning  to  the  window 
to  hide  her  quivering  eyelids. 

"Waiting  in  the  breakfast-room  for 
you,  madam." 

"I  will  go  down  to  breakfast  then. 
Will  you  go  at  once  and  tell  him  I  am 
coming?" 

"Yes,  madam." 

43 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

With  her  heart  beating  so  that  the  frail 
lace  of  her  dress  on  her  breast  seemed 
strained  to  breaking,  Flora  left  her  room 
and  went  down  the  stairs.  She  knew  the 
way  to  the  breakfast-room,  for  it  was  just 
opposite  the  little  dining-room  where 
they  had  dined  last  night.  She  went 
down  her  face  scarlet  and  pale  by  turns. 

The  door  of  the  breakfast-room  was 
open;  she  saw  Bruce  standing  just  inside. 
The  footman,  bearing  a  huge  tray  of  sil- 
ver, came  up  the  corridor  at  the  moment. 

Bruce  came  forward  to  meet  her. 
"Good  morning,  dear;  did  you  sleep 
well?" 

She  looked  up,  her  great  wide  eyes 
fixed  upon  him  for  a  moment.  She  tried 
to  speak,  then  suddenly  burst  into  tears 
over  his  hand  that  she  had  taken.  Bruce 
drew  her  inside  the  room. 

"Leave  everything,  please,"  he  said  to 
44 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

the  astonished  footman,  who  had  passed 
in  and  set  the  tray  on  the  table.  "Leave 
the  room.  I  will  ring  when  I  want  you." 

He  shut  the  door,  and  they  were  alone. 
The  girl  had  sat  down  by  the  window,  her 
face  was  covered  in  her  hands,  the  tears 
streamed  through  her  fingers. 

"Why  did  you  not  come  to  me  last 
night?"  she  demanded  passionately,  as  he 
came  up  to  her.  Her  eyes  burnt  through 
the  tears;  she  sat  up  and  faced  him. 
Her  fears  of  him  fell  away  from  her. 
His  words,  the  commonplace  inquiry, 
coming  so  soon  after  her  misery  of  the 
night,  maddened  her.  On  the  bridge  of 
that  simple  sentence  she  seemed  to  pass 
from  her  girlhood  to  womanhood. 

"I  would  have  come  if  I  had  been  sure 
that  you  expected  me." 

"Expected  you!  Were  we  not  married 
yesterday?" 

45 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"Yes;  but " 

"Bruce,  why  have  I  married  you?" 
The  man  did  not  answer.  His  face 
was  extremely  grave,  distressed.  He  was 
silent,  and  in  these  moments  of  silence 
that  intervene  in  intense  emotion,  a 
thought  seems  to  stand  out  clearly  be- 
tween two  people,  as  clearly  as  if  it  were 
uttered.  In  his  thoughts  were  his  posses- 
sions. What  were  the  motives  of  all  the 
girls  who  had  wished  to  marry  him? 
Had  not  each  one  thought  of  his  lands, 
his  wealth,  his  power,  seen  herself  mis- 
tress of  Carlingford  Towers,  a  worldly 
light,  a  social  queen? 

"You  think  I  married  you  for  money?" 
She   had    sprung    to    her    feet.     Her 
whole  body  was  tense,  as  if  she  were  suf- 
fering extreme  physical  pain. 

'Bruce  got  up  too.     "No,  my  sweet,  not 
that,  perhaps;  but  this  marriage  was  ar- 
46 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

ranged  for  you.  It  was  a  good  one,  and 
you  accepted  it.  Your  mother  told  me 
you  were  too  young  to  understand  such 
things,  that  you  had  never  read  about 
them  or  been  taught  about  them ;  that  all 
you  felt  for  me  was  the  affection  a  daugh- 
ter might  have  for  a  father.  So  you  see, 
my  own,  how  things  were  put  to  me." 

The  girl  stood  staring  at  him  wide- 
eyed  and  speechless. 

"But  when  we  were  together,  Bruce, 
why  did  you  not  ask  me  if  it  were  true?" 

"She  begged  me  not  to;  she  begged  me 
to  leave  you  undisturbed,  as  you  were — a 
child." 

More  and  more  amaze  struggled 
through  the  questioning  grief  on  her  face. 
It  was  all  a  mystery  to  her.  Why  she  had 
been  so  misrepresented,  why  he  had  ac- 
cepted such  a  representation,  why,  having 
accepted  it,  he  'had  married  her — these 
47 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

things  were  wrapped  in  darkness  for  her. 

But,  after  all,  did  it  much  matter?  It 
was  not  true.  A  wave  of  delight  filled 
^r  heart.  She  was  his  wife,  and  she 
*oved  him  as  his  wife.  She  had  more 
to  give  than  he  had  expected.  Was  not 
that  a  great  joy?  He  had  loved  her, 
thinking  her  a  child  who  could  give  him 
nothing.  How  much  more  would  he 
love  the  woman  who  could  give  him 
everything.  The  clouds  were  rolling 
away  from  her  sky.  She  had  only  to  ex- 
plain. She  had  her  youth  and  beauty; 
above  all,  she  had  that  divine  gift  for 
passionate  adoration  of  the  one  she  loved, 
without  which  a  woman's  youth  and 
beauty  is  as  nothing,  and  love  and  happi- 
ness have  no  soul. 

She  had  everything  to  give  this  man. 
She  had  only  now  to  explain  to  him  that 
it  was  all  at  his  feet.  The  glory  and 
48 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

colour  of  happiness  rushed  into  her  face. 
Her  eyes  were  warm  and  radiant  as  they 
shone  on  him. 

"Well,  Bruce,  it  was  a  mistake.  I  un- 
derstand everything.  I  am  not  a  child, 
and  I  did  not  marry  you  for  Carling- 
ford  Towers,  and  I  don't  feel  like  a 
daughter  to  you.  I  love  you,  worship 
you.  I  wanted  you  to  come  to  me  last 
night.  I  want  your  kiss  and  your  love, 
and  that  is  enough  for  my  perfect  happi- 


ness." 


She  was  close  to  him,  both  her  soft 
hands  clasped  his  hand  hard  against  her 
beating  breast.  She  looked  at  him,  ex- 
pecting to  see  that  dawn  of  joy  in  his  face 
that  had  risen  in  her  soul.  But  his  face 
was  dark  with  heavy  shadows;  the  pain 
and  distress  of  it  did  not  lighten.  He 
looked  at  her  for  a  few  moments  with 
those  large  dark  eyes,  that  from  their  first 
49 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

glance  upon  her  had  stirred  her  being  to 
its  very  depths,  and  then  drew  away  his 
hand,  turned  from  her,  and  threw  himself 
into  a  chair,  covering  his  eyes  as  she  had 
done  hers. 

"Oh,  my  darling,  it  has  been  an  awful, 
terrible  mistake!"  And  the  low  tones 
went  through  and  through  the  girl,  feel- 
ing like  a  bayonet  thrust  through  her 
flesh. 

She  fell  on  her  knees  by  his  chair. 
"Why?"  she  whispered.  "Bruce,  speak 
to  me.  Why?  How?  What  does  it 
matter?  You  do  love  me,  don't  you?" 

There  was  a  long  silence,  and  the  girl, 
kneeling  by  him,  was  conscious  of  an 
agony  in  him,  greater  than  any  she  would 
ever  be  called  upon  to  suffer,  though  he 
gave  no  sign. 

In  the  merry,  sunny  room,  full  of  the 
50 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

joyous  breath  of  June,  she  knelt,  cold, 
shivering,  desperately  afraid. 

He  lifted  his  head  after  a  long  time, 
and  put  one  arm  round  her  as  she  knelt 
trembling  beside  him. 

"Listen,  Flora,  such  love  as  you  offer 
me,  passionate  love,  I  can  only  buy  at  the 
price  of  my  life.  My  heart  is  worn  out 
It  only  swings  as  it  were  on  a  thread. 
Emotion  of  any  kind — anger,  grief,  pas- 
sion, anything  that  hurts  or  pleases  much 
—wears  that  thread  still  thinner,  shortens 
my  life.  Very  great  emotion  at  any  time 
might  snap  that  cord.  For  some  years 
now  I  have  avoided  deep  feeling  of  any 
kind.  I  have  the  choice  before  me;  I 
can  go  without  these  things  and  live,  or 
I  can  enjoy  them  a  few  times  and  die." 

"But,  then,  why  have  married  me?" 

Her  voice   was   just   a   low   whisper. 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

Like  one  who,  in  an  earthquake,  sees  his 
house  and  all  its  walls  falling  round  him, 
and  feels  the  very  earth  bending  beneath 
his  feet,  so  the  girl  realized  in  that  blind- 
ing moment  she  was  standing  amongst 
the  ruins  of  her  life. 

"Because  I  wanted  the  companionship, 
and  I  thought  you  would  want  nothing 
more.  I  was  told  you  were  a  child,  and 
I  thought  you  would  be  contented  with 
the  toys  I  could  give  you." 

His  hand  caressed  her  hair;  she  had 
sunk  down  still  lower  on  the  floor,  in  a 
crushed  heap,  beside  him. 

"Carriages,  houses,  dresses,  jewels,  all 
the  things  that  women  like  so  much." 

"And  I  do  not  care  for  any  of  them," 
she  returned  passionately.  "I  do  not 
want  any  of  them.  I  never  thought  about 
them.  I  only  wanted  you." 

The  man  did  not  answer,  but  she  saw 
52 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

his  hand  clench  tightly  on  the  chair- 
arm  till  all  the  knuckles  grew  white. 

The  hot  sun  streamed  through  the  open 
window,  bringing  with  it  the  scent  of 
flowers  and  the  joyous  songs  of  the  birds. 
She  was  quite  silent.  There  seemed 
nothing  to  say.  There  was  no  use  in 
saying  anything.  The  whole  position 
was  clear  to  her  now, — all  its  hideous 
desolation,  its  iron  servitude,  its  clanking 
chains  of  duty,  its  dreary  labour  without 
reward,  its  complete  hopelessness. 

"And  it  is  for  life,  for  life!"  This 
thought  beat  like  a  pulse  in  her  brain. 
The  scene  of  yesterday  came  before  her — 
the  dim  church,  the  flowers,  the  throng, 
and  those  words  "till  Death  us  do  part." 
What  rapture  had  filled  her  throbbing 
heart  as  she  had  heard  them  I  She  had 
looked  at  Bruce  and  felt  triumphantly 
that  her  love  was  above  Death  itself. 
53 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

She  would  live  with  him,  love  him,  adore 
him,  tend  him,  and  then  die  with  him. 
Nothing  would  be  too  hard  for  her  to  ac- 
complish, too  much  to  bear  or  to  suffer 
for  that  priceless  reward — his  love. 
And  now — it  was  true  the  service  lay  be* 
fore  her,  but  without  reward. 

"Any  one  would  have  done  for  corriv 
panionship — your  sister — any  relation," 
she  said  mechanically,  after  a  long  si* 
lence,  as  her  stunned  brain  followed  for  a 
moment  a  side-track  of  thought.  "Why. 
have  chosen  me?" 

"Because  you  were  so  sweet,  darling, 
you  seemed  so  bright  and  intelligent,  far 
more  so  than  any  girl  I  had  met.  And  I 
was  attracted  by  your  youth  and  beauty. 
I  wanted  to  have  you  about  me." 

"You  wanted  all  that,  though  you  knew 
you  could  give  nothing  in  exchange?" 
The  agony  of  her  broken,  excited  nerves 
54 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

made  her  for  the  moment  hard  in  her 
suffering. 

"Nothing!" 

The  man  did  not  enumerate  those 
things  which  the  world  had  taught  him 
were  the  ALL  of  life  to  women.  He  was 
silent,  but  for  that  one  word.  But  again 
the  girl  felt  his  thought. 

"They  are  nothing  to  me,"  she  re- 
peated. 

"Good  God,  it  is  so  irrevocable!"  the 
man  burst  out  after  a  moment,  sitting  for- 
ward in  his  chair,  both  hands  tightly 
locked  across  his  eyes.  "I  see  what  I 
have  done  now.  I  would  undo  it.  I 
would  set  you  free  if  I  could,  Flora,  but 
it's  impossible.  We  can  neither  of  us  do 
anything." 

The  girl  hardly  heeded.  She  was  pur- 
suing a  thought  of  her  own. 

"Bruce,"  she  whispered,  after  a  minute, 
55 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"what  did  you  mean  when  you  said  you 
would  have  come  to  me  last  night  if  you 
had  known  I  expected  it?  Do  you  love 
me?" 

She  had  risen  to  her  knees  and  was 
leaning  on  the  chair-arm;  her  pale  face 
was  close  to  his,  her  eyes,  wide  with  de- 
spair, looked  into  his. 

"Love  you?     Yes,  only  too  much." 

His  arms  were  round  her,  his  lips  on 
hers.  In  the  pain  of  her  crushed  muscles 
in  his  grasp,  o£  her  mouth  under  his  kiss, 
she  had  her  answer.  Then  he  pressed 
her  tired  head  down  on  his  shoulder. 

"Listen.  As  I  have  told  you,  some 
years  ago  I  gave  up  the  idea  of  love. 
When  the  plan  came  to  me  to  marry  you, 
and  I  talked  with  your  mother  about  it, 
you  were  to  be  a  merry  little  daughter  in 
my  house,  petted,  amused,  surrounded 
with  everything  you  wanted.  It  would 
56 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

be  delightful  to  have  you  here  in  the  old 
house,  to  hear  your  laughter,  see  you  play 
with  your  girlish  friends,  have  your  sweet 
face  opposite  me  at  my  breakfast,  to  see  it 
waiting  by  my  fireside  at  night.  I 
thought  your  innocence  and  your  igno- 
rance of  everything  would  be  my  pro- 
tection, that  the  love  for  the  woman 
would  not  arise.  Do  you  know,  yester- 
day, when  I  saw  your  eyes  watching  me 
in  the  train,  I  began  to  feel  it  was  all 
wrong.  And  now,  sweetest,  that  you 
have  told  me  of  your  love  for  me,  do  you 
think  I  can  refuse  it?  My  life,  after  all, 
what  is  it?  Some  years  more  or  less.  I 
will  give  up  the  remainder  for  a  few 
hours  in  your  arms." 

The  girl  lay  back  in  his  clasp  in  a 
trance  of  pleasure  so  keen,  so  exquisite, 
that  it  cut  off  everything  from  her  mem- 
ory, her  consciousness,  except  the 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

touch  of  his  arm,  the  sound  of  his  voice. 
Like  the  first  approach  of  sleep  after 
agony,  the  first  fall  of  shadow  on  a  brow 
long  exposed  to  the  blistering  sun,  that 
embrace  soothed  her,  poured  balm  over 
all  her  aching  nerves.  He  did  love  her, 
and  would  pay  for  her  love  with  his  life. 
The  idea  was  so  sweet  to  her  she  clung  to 
it,  let  it  immerse  her;  lulled,  rocked  by  it, 
cradled  in  it,  she  lay  there,  and  all  seemed 
to  sweep  by  unheeded,  nothing  mattered, 
there  was  nothing  in  the  world  but  this. 
These  respites  in  life,  how  short  they  are! 
Moments  of  oblivion  snatched  in  the 
great  torture  chamber!  As  she  opened 
her  eyes  again  to  look  up  to  the  beloved 
face  above  her,  its  extreme  pallor,  a 
deadly  shade  of  whiteness  struck  her,  and 
all  his  words  with  a  full  sense  of  their 
meaning  rushed  back  upon  her,  seeming 
58 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

to  crush  her  under  their  stifling  weight. 
What  a  moment  it  is  for  a  woman  when 
she  sees  that  her  love,  a  gift  so  impossible 
to  her  to  recall,  has  been  bestowed  where 
it  is  not  welcome,  where  it  can  only 
bring  agony  and  danger  to  its  recipient! 
With  the  horror  of  this  realization  upon 
her,  she  tore  herself  out  of  those  arms, 
in  which  she  felt  she  must  never  be  again. 

"No!  no!  not  at  that  cost,  Bruce;  I 

could  not  injure  you,  shorten  your  life. 

-Forget  everything  I  said.     Let  it  be  as 

you  had  arranged.     Anything  rather  than 

you  should  suffer." 

The  man  had  risen  and  was  looking  at 
her;  his  face  was  very  white,  terribly 
white. 

"Forget  it!"  he  said  bitterly.  "It  will 
not  be  so  easy,  but" — and  his  brows  con- 
tracted, a  look  of  intense  pain  lined  all 
59 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

his  face — "I  suppose  anything  else  is  im- 
possible, even  this  talk  with  you " 

He  left  the  phrase  unfinished. 

Involuntarily  his  hand  went  to  his 
heart.  Flora  stared  at  him  blankly. 

Impossible!  Yes,  that  was  what  she 
had  said,  what  she  knew. 

A  mistake  had  been  made.  She  had 
been  sold  into  bondage.  She  had  her  life 
sentence. 

Suddenly  everything  grew  dark  about 
her.  She  stretched  out  her  hands  with 
a  cry. 

"Bruce,  I  can't  bear  it;  let  me  die." 

Before  he  could  save  her  she  had  fallen 
at  his  feet  senseless. 

Suffering  extremely  himself,  the  man 
hardly  noticed  it  now  in  his  anxiety  as  he 
lifted  her  up  and  laid  her  on  the  couch  by 
the  window.  Slight  and  pale,  with  her 
tear-stained  face  turned  up  to  him,  she 
60 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

lay  there  as  if  broken,  like  a  white 
butterfly  that  had  come  out  in  the  sun- 
shine to  flit  gaily  over  the  heavy  ploughed 
field  of  life,  and  that  the  great  harrow 
of  Circumstance  had  caught  and  crushed 
in  its  iron  teeth  and  passed  over,  leaving 
it  maimed  and  dying  in  the  furrow. 

Bruce  rang  the  bell  and  sent  the  foot- 
man for  her  maid,  but  before  she  came, 
armed  with  smelling-salts  and  flasks,  the 
girl  had  opened  her  eyes  and  sat  up. 

The  butler  came  in  and  removed  the 
cold  breakfast,  replacing  it  with  fresh  hot 
dishes.  Bruce  pressed  her  to  come  to  the 
table,  and,  to  please  him,  she  did  so,  and 
drank  the  coffee  he  poured  out  for  her. 
The  servants  moved  about  them  serv- 
ing them.  No  more  serious  conver- 
sation was  possible  just  then.  In  fact, 
it  seemed  to  the  girl  a  silence  had 
fallen  between  her  and  Bruce  that 
61 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

it  would  not  be  possible  ever  to 
break  again.  She  gazed  at  his  face 
and  saw  the  warm,  clear  colour  had  re- 
turned to  it.  The  pain  he  had  suffered 
had  passed  off,  he  said;  he  did  not  feel 
any  more  of  it. 

After  breakfast  he  had  to  see  his  secre- 
tary for  a  time.  Could  she  occupy  her- 
self, he  asked  her,  while  he  was  engaged? 
Flora  assented  at  once. 

"I  should  like  to  be  alone.  I  will  go 
out  into  the  gardens.  Send  to  me  there, 
if  you  want  me." 

Half  stupidly  she  rose  from  the  table 
and  stepped  through  the  long  windows 
on  to  the  lawn,  hatless,  and  the  sun's  rays 
came  down  on  the  gold  of  her  hair.  It 
seemed  to  burn  in  to  Bruce's  eyes,  as  he 
watched  her  from  the  centre  of  the  room, 
go  down  the  lawn,  following  the  current 
of  fragrance  borne  on  the  sunny  air  from 
62 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

the  rose-garden.  Aimlessly,  unthink- 
ingly, she  wandered  on,  her  brain  dull 
and  stupid,  her  feet  heavy.  The  rose- 
garden  at  the  Towers  was  very  beautiful, 
circular  in  form,  and  entirely  walled  in 
by  green  walls  of  trained  standard  and 
climbing  roses.  The  Crimson  Rambler 
and  the  Seven  Sisters  rose  and  the  Allan 
Richardson  all  disputed  together  for  the 
right  to  decorate  those  green  walls.  In 
the  centre,  surrounded  by  beds  of  mag- 
nificent bloom,  was  short,  turfy  grass,  and 
here,  in  the  sun,  the  girl  threw  herself 
down,  laying  her  head  on  her  out- 
stretched arm.  From  here  she  could  see 
the  great  grey  group  of  the  Towers  ris- 
ing against  the  glorious  blue  of  the  sky. 
She  was  mistress  of  that  grand  pile, 
which  dated  from  England's  earliest 
days;  but  not  a  quiver  of  pride  moved  in 
her  as  she  looked.  To  her  it  was  her 
63 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

prison.  For  this  she  had  been  misled  and 
sold.  For  this  her  birthright  to  love 
and  bless  another  by  her  loving  had  been 
stolen  from  her.  For  these  old  stone 
walls  and  all  they  stood  for,  she  had  been 
cheated  and  betrayed.  Look  where  she 
would  she  could  see  no  hope,  no  escape. 
This  man's  name  and  honour  had  been 
put  into  her  hands  by  him  so  trustingly. 
She  could  not  do  anything  else  than  guard 
them  safely,  hold  them  sacred.  She 
could  not  go  away  and  lead  her  life  apart 
from  him.  Their  marriage  had  been  so 
horribly  public;  his  life  was  so  horribly 
public.  What  a  curse  it  is  to  the  rich 
and  the  great,  this  public  eye  that  glares 
ever  into  their  privacy!  If  she  left  him, 
he  was  shamed  before  the  crowd,  be- 
fooled, dishonoured.  He  had  such 
multitudes  of  friends  and — enemies,  and 
they  would  all  know  and  laugh  at  him. 
64 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

And  he  thought  much  of  these  things, 
valued  his  name  before  the  world! 

To  her,  in  that  moment,  the  obscurity 
of  poor  gentility  in  which  she  had  been 
born  and  brought  up,  where  few  care  to 
know  or  chronicle  the  unimportant  lives, 
seemed  to  her  a  happy  thing.  No,  she 
must  stay  now,  where  Fate  had  placed 
her  beside  him,  this  man  she  worshipped 
and  yet  must  learn  not  to  love;  stay 
bound  there  by  the  chains  of  duty,  obliga- 
tion, to  which  would  be  added  the  still 
stronger  ones  of  affection,  month  by 
month  as  the  years  went  on.  She  did  not 
see  any  escape.  The  death  of  Bruce, 
which,  to  some  minds,  would  have  seemed 
the  solution,  only  to  her  set  the  seal  of 
finality  on  her  misery.  With  the  death 
of  Bruce  everything  ended.  That  would 
so  break  her  she  could  never  hope  to  live 
or  enjoy  again.  A  life  of  dreary  duties, 
65 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

of  vain,  empty  shows,  of  idle  vanities,  of 
worthless,  worldly  pomp,  maddened  by 
the  hunger  and  thirst  after  love  which 
she  might  never  know,  that  was  what 
faced  her.  Why  had  her  mother  done 
this  thing?  she  wondered — her  beauti- 
ful, passionate  mother,  who  had  run 
away  at  fifteen  with  her  father,  a  poor 
army  officer.  True,  she  had  always 
seemed  to  feel  their  poverty  extremely, 
but  she  had  never  appeared  really  un- 
happy. Love  had  been  with  her  all 
through  her  life.  She  must  have  known 
its  value.  How  could  she  turn  her 
daughter  into  the  wilderness  to  starve? 
She  lay  there  in  a  sort  of  stupor,  of  dull 
thought.  How  exquisite  the  scent  in  the 
garden  wasl  How  the  birds  sang! 
She  watched  two  chaffinches  who,  in  the 
ardour  of  pursuit,  whirled  quite  close  to 
her  motionless  figure  on  flashing  wings. 
66 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

How  the  butterflies  circled  together  in 
the  hot  sunlight;  how  the  bees  hummed 
in  the  roses!  Life,  love,  freedom,  was 
everywhere  about  her.  The  happy  ani- 
mal world  wheeled  on  in  gay,  unfettered 
joy  round  her,  poor  human  slave,  cursed 
by  human  laws. 

After  luncheon,  a  silent  and  formal 
meal,  the  servants  being  in  the  room  the 
whole  time,  Bruce  asked  her  if  she  would 
come  out  with  him.  He  wanted  to  show 
her  the  beautiful  woods  that  lay  behind 
the  Towers.  She  went  slowly  up  the 
stairs  to  put  on  her  hat. 

How  her  feet  dragged!  Would  they 
always  feel  like  that  now?  she  wondered. 
There  had  always  been  such  an  elastic 
tread  in  them  formerly.  She  pinned  on 
her  hat  before  the  glass — a  very  lovely 
hat,  large  and  of  the  finest  white  straw, 
with  just  one  fold  of  white  chiffon  round 
67 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

the  crown  and  a  single  large  pink  rose 
nestling  in  it,  a  perfect  sister  in  appear- 
ance to  those  blooming  in  the  garden. 
She  stood  for  a  moment  thoughtfully  be- 
fore the  mirror.  Going  out  with  Bruce 
to  see  the  grounds,  the  woods !  How  she 
had  pictured  in  her  day-dreams  these 
walks  they  would  take  together  when  he 
would  be  showing  her  first  their  home! 
How  joyous  and  golden  it  had  all  seemed 
to  her!  Before  the  wedding  how  it  had 
thrilled  her  with  delight  to  go  for  a  walk 
with  him!  He  had  taken  her  and  her 
mother  to  Hurlingham,  she  remembered, 
and  walking  there  beside  him  how  happy 
she  had  been !  Why  was  it  all  so  changed 
now,  so  different,  so  devoid  of  interest? 
She  knew  within  herself,  for  her  brain 
was  not  idle  and  shallow,  but  deep  and 
true,  the  philosopher's  brain  that  analyses 
68 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

and  questions  and  thinks  things  out  for 
itself  until  it  has  found  the  answer.  She 
knew  that  Nature  had  had  her  own  ends 
in  view  when  she  kindled  that  warm  love 
for  Bruce  in  the  girl's  breast,  and  had 
smiled  on  the  sunny  path  before  her  feet 
and  decked  it  with  roses,  for  Nature's 
aim  had  been  the  creation  of  other  lives 
out  of  these  two  that  individually  had  no 
value  for  her.  Nature  only  wanted  them 
as  reproducers  of  the  type,  the  race  that 
she  cherishes,  and  to  make  the  individuals 
amenable  to  her  wishes  she  offers  them 
the  premium  of  pleasure.  But  now  Na- 
ture had  withdrawn  her  gift.  She  is  not 
one  who  makes  presents  free. 

All  this  the  girl  knew,  and  that  she 
must  not  expect  now  in  her  aimless  life 
that  the  roses  would  spring  beneath  her 
feet. 

69 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Sadly  and  soberly  she  gathered  up  her 
gloves  and  the  white  silk  jewelled- 
handled  sunshade  and  went  down. 

Together  they  strolled  slowly — for  the 
sun  was  very  hot  and  poured  down  from 
a  cloudless  sky — across  the  soft  lawns, 
and  then  taking  a  tiny  footpath  that  led 
them  over  a  chattering  stream  by  a  swing 
plank  bridge  they  began  to  ascend  the 
slope  into  the  woods.  Gloriously  green 
they  were.  It  was  like  going  into  the 
heart  of  an  emerald,  and  overhead,  above 
and  beneath,  and  in  the  tremulous  sway- 
ing roof  of  leaves,  trilled  and  carolled  the 
birds  not  yet  exhausted  by  the  labours 
of  nest-making  and  feeding  their  hungry 
broods. 

"Dear  little  girl,"  said  Bruce,  after  a 

long  silence,  as  they  wound  leisurely  up 

moss-covered  paths  and  amongst  gnarled 

and  tangled  roots,  "you  were  very  sweet 

70 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

to  me  this  morning.  You  can  imagine 
what  pleasure,  even  if  in  a  way  a  sad 
pleasure,  it  was  to  me  to  hear  that  you 
cared  for  me  so  much." 

"I  am  afraid  it  only  did  you  harm,"  re- 
turned the  girl,  sadly,  in  a  low  tone. 

"It  is  curious  how  any  emotion  seems 
to  bring  on  that  terrible  pain  in  the  heart. 
I  had  to  send  my  secretary  away  after  all 
and  go  to  lie  down.  It  was  two  hours 
before  I  could  get  relief  from  the  pain, 
and  yet  as  long  as  I  keep  from  any  mental 
stress  of  feeling,  any  excitement,  I  seem 
perfectly  well." 

"Did  you  really  suffer  so  much?"  asked 
the  girl,  stopping  short  and  regarding 
him  with  horror-stricken  eyes.  "Why 
did  you  not  send  for  me?  I  was  only  in 
the  garden." 

"Do  you  think  you  would  have  been  a 
tranquillizing  influence?"  he  answered, 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

smiling  down  upon  her.  "I  am  afraid 
not;  besides,  no  one  can  help  me.  Dark- 
ness, stillness,  absolute  rest,  without 
speaking  or  moving,  is  the  only  thing  to 
get  rid  of  the  pain." 

"Well,  it  must  never,  never  happen 
again,"  said  the  girl,  firmly.  "Bruce,  we 
must  never  talk,  never  think  of  anything 
distressing.  Perhaps  in  time,  if  you  lead 
a  very,  very  quiet  life,  it  might  get  much 
better." 

"Yes;  I  believe  it  would.  That's  what 
the  doctor  seemed  to  think.  The  heart 
has  been  overstrained,  and  when  you  have 
a  strain,  you  can  only  rest.  No  one  can 
say  if  the  organ  will  get  better.  It's  a 
chance ;  it  may  or  may  not." 

"I  should  think  it  would  in  time  if  you 
never  tax  it  in  any  way." 

"Will  you  help  me  to  lead  that  quiet 
72 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

life?"  he  asked,  half  jesting,  with  a  very 
sad  look  in  his  eyes.  "Men  are  so  weak; 
women  seem  to  have  that  grand  moral 
fibre  that  enables  them  to  resist,  to  keep 
to  their  resolves.  A  man  has  not.  It  is 
all  in  your  hands;  you  are  the  arbiter  of 
my  destiny.  Wherever  you  beckon  me, 
to  whatever  fate,  I  shall  follow  you." 

The  girl's  face  grew  immensely  grave. 
"I  shall  never  lead  you  into  the  quick- 
sands, never  be  the  will-o'-the-wisp  to 
guide  you  into  the  swamps  of  death." 

Her  voice  was  very  low;  it  had  the 
solemnity  of  a  vow  in  it. 

All  the  noble  female  nature  that  the 
Creator's  hand  has  modelled  on  such 
great  lines,  that  it  may  be  ready  for  the 
devotion  and  the  sacrifices  of  maternity, 
rose  in  her. 

There  was  a  long  pause  while  they 
73 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

wandered  on  step  by  step.  Bruce  walked 
nearer  to  her  and  slipped  his  arm  through 
hers. 

"Then  you  will  be  my  dear  little  daugh- 
ter again?  Can  you  keep  to  that?  Can 
you  feel  that  affection  for  me  now?" 

The  girl  stopped  in  their  walk.  There 
was  something  desperate  in  her  heavy 
eyes.  She  looked  round,  and  then  said 
abruptly — 

"Let  us  sit  down  here  for  a  minute  and 
rest,  let  me  explain  to  you  if  I  can  what  I 
think." 

They  sat  down,  side  by  side,  with  their 
backs  against  a  huge  beech-tree  root  that 
arched  itself  up  two  feet  from  the  ground. 

"Listen!  When  I  first  saw  you  I  ad- 
mired you,  when  I  heard  you  wanted  to 
marry  me,  I  fell  in  love  with  you.  There 
was  nothing  filial  in  that  feeling.  I  just 
fell  in  love.  Well,  Bruce,  I  cannot  take 
74 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

that  back.  It  is  useless  to  ask  me  to  turn 
passionate  love  into  filial  affection.  It 
would  want  a  magician  to  do  that.  That 
immense,  boundless  affection  that  one  has 
for  one's  father  and  mother,  for  every 
relation  that  one  loves,  that  is  something 
totally  different,  and  it  has  no  part  in 
passionate  love,  but  there  is  a  soul,  a  core, 
a  centre  to  all  passion  in  a  woman.  That 
is  the  sleeping  germ  of  her  maternal  love, 
her  maternal  instinct,  which  is  to  develop 
later.  This  is  so  different  again  from 
the  love  for  the  man.  This  maternal  love 
is  all  devotion,  all  unselfishness,  all  will- 
ingness to  sacrifice  oneself.  It  is  the  in- 
stinct to  protect.  This  germ,  this  inner 
soul  of  my  love  for  you,  I  will  do  my  ut- 
most to  foster,  to  bring  forward;  this  in- 
stinct to  protect,  I  will  use  for  you  in- 
stead of  the  child  it  was  implanted  for. 
I  have  said  I  cannot  go  backward  and 
75 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

turn  a  wife's  love  into  a  daughter's  affec- 
tion, but  I  can  go  forward,  I  can  turn  a 
wife's  love  into  a  maternal  devotion. 
The  one  is  unnatural,  but  the  other  is  nat- 
ural. The  wife's  love  ultimately  de- 
velops into  the  maternal  devotion,  even  if 
left  to  itself." 

She  ceased,  and  the  man  gazed  upon 
her  in  mute  surprise  and  wonder. 

Was  this  the  child,  the  baby  of  sixteen, 
who  must  not  have  her  mind  disturbed? 
Why,  her  mind  had  traversed  all  the 
regions  of  thought  and  philosophy  al- 
ready. She  spoke  so  simply,  so  natu- 
rally, so  sincerely,  it  was  evident  she  had 
not  got  her  ideas  from  any  book  or  sec- 
ond-hand in  any  way.  She  just  ex- 
pressed her  thoughts — thoughts  which 
apparently  it  was  her  everyday  habit  to 
ponder  over. 

"To  pet  and  protect  you,  Bruce,  that  is 

76  " 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

all  I  am  here  for,"  she  said  more  lightly, 
stroking  his  hand.  "We  must  not  think 
of  anything  else." 

"What  a  wonderful  child  you  are!  If 
I  shut  my  eyes  I  could  fancy  an  aged 
philosopher  was  talking  to  mel  To 
have  that  intellect,  with  that  sweet  open- 
ing rose  look  on  your  face  I  Ah,  what  a 
thing  it  would  have  been  to  have  won 
your  love  and  enjoyed  itl" 

"Hush!  I  can't  bear  to  talk  of  it. 
This  world  is  cursed,  Bruce;  everything 
in  it  is  suffering.  It's  all  such  a  beauti- 
fully painted  show  for  the  idle  eye;  but  if 
one  looks  closer  into  it,  underneath  one 
sees  suffering,  nothing  but  suffering — like 
our  marriage." 

"I  do  not  know  if  I  can  prevent  my 

love  now,  Flora;  it  is  so  different,  you  are 

so  totally  different  from  what  I  thought. 

It  was  easy  for  me  to  look  upon  you  as  a 

77 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

child,  when  I  really  thought  you  were 
one.  A  little  simple  childish  heart  that 
does  not  know  what  passion  is,  ah!  that 
does  not  stir  one  like  the  real  living  soul 
of  the  woman." 

''Don't,  Bruce;  you  must  not  talk  like 
this." 

Her  tones  were  so  full  of  vehement 
agony  they  startled  him.  He  still  had 
no  conception  of  the  degree  of  her  sor- 
row, her  dismay. 

He  was  silent,  and  they  both  sat  there 
without  speaking,  while  the  happy  birds 
flew  and  fed  and  fought  and  fluttered  over 
their  heads  singing  all  the  time. 

They  rose  and  wandered  on  after  a 
time,  and  on  the  completion  of  a  wide 
circle  of  woodland  found  themselves 
again  in  the  narrow  path  and  went  back 
to  the  house  for  tea.  Just  before  they 
entered,  Bruce  said  in  a  low  tone — 
78 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

"Remember,  I  cannot  resist  my  love 
for  you.  It  rests  with  you." 

She  looked  up,  and  all  the  grace  and 
attraction  he  had  hurt  her  cruelly;  she 
was  conscious  of  nothing  but  pain,  phys- 
ical and  mental,  all  through  her;  she  felt 
sick,  as  if  she  should  faint  from  it. 

"I  have  promised,"  was  all  she  an- 
swered ;  and  they  went  on  into  the  library 
through  the  long  window. 

Thai  evening  she  dressed  in  a  new  din- 
ner-gown. Never  again  in  her  life,  she 
thought,  could  she  wear  the  rose  satin  she 
had  worn  through  all  that  weary,  an- 
guished night.  Stained  with  tears, 
crushed  and  crumpled,  it  looked  like  an 
old  dress.  She  told  her  maid  to  put  it 
away.  She  could  not  bear  either  to  wear 
or  to  part  with  it.  She  chose  a  sea-green 
silk,  and  it  looked  well  upon  her,  but 
79 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

gone  was  the  beauty  of  the  previous  night. 
Her  skin  was  pallid,  her  eyes  heavy,  one 
would  hardly  have  recognized  her. 

They  had  a  very  silent  dinner,  and  di- 
rectly they  rose  from  the  table,  she  said — 

"I  am  so  very  tired,  Bruce,  I  will  go 
to  bed  at  once,  if  I  may?  I  feel  I  cannot 
keep  my  eyes  open." 

She  leant  on  a  chair-back  to  support 
herself;  blessed  fatigue  was  coming  to  her 
aid.  She  only  wanted  to  sleep. 

"Do  go,  dear  child,  at  once,"  he  replied 
anxiously.  "I  hope  you  will  sleep  well." 

She  inclined  her  head.  She  felt  she 
had  no  voice  to  speak  nor  words  to  say. 
She  left  him,  and  went  up  to  her  own 
room. 

The  maid  came  as  last  night,  and  Flora 

let  her  undress  her  and  undo  her  hair. 

Then  she  asked  her  to  go,  and,  slipping 

into  the  dressing-gown,  sat  down  for  a 

80 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

moment  in  the  easy-chair.  Before  she 
could  rise  again,  sleep  had  overtaken  her 
—swiftly,  suddenly  it  swept  over  her — as 
it  will  sometimes  after  long  denial.  Her 
head  fell  back  on  the  chair,  her  lids  over 
her  eyes,  and  she  was  fast  asleep. 

Three  hours  passed,  and  then  suddenly 
she  awoke.  The  lights  were  all  burning 
steadily.  She  looked  round  confused. 
There  was  a  sound  in  the  silence;  that 
was  what  had  waked  her.  She  sat  up, 
listening — yes,  there  were  steps  just  out- 
side. In  an  instant  she  realized  that 
Bruce  was  coming  to  her.  That  noble 
instinct  of  courage,  of  willingness  to  suf- 
fer rather  than  another  should,  awoke  in 
an  instant. 

She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  crossed  to 
the  door,  and  shut  the  bolt  on  the  inside. 
In  the  same  moment  a  hand  from  without 
turned  the  handle. 

81 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"Flora!" 

The  word  came  to  her  gently,  appeal- 
ingly,  and  her  heart  fainted  within  her. 
She  gave  no  sound,  made  no  response. 
The  door  was  gently  tried.  All  her 
passionate  love  for  him  rose  up  in  her, 
calling  upon  her  to  throw  open  the  door, 
to  stretch  out  her  arms  to  him,  draw  him 
close  to  her  agonized,  suffering,  mortally 
wounded  heart,  but  that  other  great 
instinct  of  the  female,  of  which  she  had 
told  him,  to  protect,  to  guard,  to  cherish, 
rose  too  and  fought  with  it,  and  would 
not  let  her  open  the  door. 

"Flora,  you  are  there,  I  know.  I  heard 
you  bolt  the  door.  My  sweet,  let  me 
come  in.  I  wish  it!" 

What  should  she  do?    The  struggle 

was  tearing  her  in  pieces.     He  wished  it 

now — yes,  now,  perhaps — but  the  scene 

of  the  morning  came  back  to  her,  "shorten 

82 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

his  life;"  the  scene  of  the  afternoon  in 
the  wood.  He  had  said  he  was  weak. 
It  was  for  her,  in  her  great  love  for  him, 
to  be  strong. 

"I  can't,  Bruce,"  she  whispered  back. 
"I  have  promised." 

The  intense  pain  she  was  feeling  vi- 
brated through  the  whisper. 

"Open  the  door,  darling;  I  wish  it." 

She  gave  no  answer.  She  stood  with 
her  hands  clasped  hard,  grinding  into  her 
breast. 

There  was  a  long  silence;  then  she 
heard  his  feet  going,  going — away. 

Bruce  went  downstairs  in  the  darkness, 
and  his  wife  fell  in  a  broken-looking, 
huddled  heap,  her  eyes  streaming  with 
burning  tears,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
closed  door. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  smart  wedding  that  had  so  interested 
and  amused  society  had  been  in  June.  It 
was  now  September  in  the  same  year, 
mild  and  sunny  and  tranquil  as  Septem- 
ber can  be  at  her  best. 

In  one  of  the  narrowest,  quietest  streets 
of  Mayfair,  a  very  well-appointed  motor 
drew  up  before  a  quiet-looking  house,  and 
a  slim  figure  descended  and  went  up  to 
the  door.  It  was  that  of  a  beautiful  and 
perfectly  gowned  young  woman,  but  few 
would  have  recognized  her  as  the  radiant 
bride  with  the  shining  eyes  of  the  June 
wedding.  Gone  utterly  was  the  laughing 
beauty  of  the  damask  lips,  the  glow  in  the 
round  cheeks,  the  fire  and  light  sparkling 
84 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

beneath  the  lashes.  Colourless,  grave, 
and  quiet,  in  spite  of  her  light  clothing, 
she  suggested  a  widow.  She  was  shown 
up  to  the  drawing-room,  and  a  lady, 
graceful  and  still  young-looking,  rose 
quickly  from  a  writing-table  and  came  to 
her. 

"My  darling!" 

"Oh,  mamma,  how  could  you,  how 
could  you  do  it?" 

Flora  threw  up  her  long  veil  over  her 
hat-brim.  She  stood  before  her  mother, 
excitedly  tearing  the  delicate  French 
gloves  off  her  slender  trembling  hands. 

"Do  what,  my  dearest?  What  is  the 
matter,  Flora?  What  has  happened?" 

"Marry  me  to  this  man!  I  can't  go 
on  living  this  life.  I  can't.  I've  come 
up  to  tell  you.  How  could  you  deceive 
him  and  me  so  much?  Why  did  you  con- 
demn me  to  this  awful  life,  this  prison?" 
85 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

The  elder  lady's  face  paled:  an  amaze- 
ment so  deep,  so  genuine,  spread  over  it, 
it  almost  covered  her  look  of  pain.  She 
had  a  beautiful  face,  refined  and  delicate, 
that  the  years  in  passing  hardly  seemed 
to  have  touched — a  face  full  of  thought 
and  feeling — a  lovely  face,  such  as  one 
seldom  sees. 

"Flora!  Is  it  possible  you  are  not 
happy?  Why,  child,  the  thought  of  your 
marriage  has  been  my  constant  joy  all 
these  three  months." 

"Happy?" 

That  one  word  was  so  bitter,  so  in- 
tensely uttered  with  such  anguish,  it 
seemed  to  fall  through  the  air  like  a  blow. 
The  mother  seemed  to  tremble  under  it. 
She  stepped  back  to  the  little  couch  and 
sat  down  there. 

"But — but  you  told  me  you  loved 
86 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Bruce,  you  wished  to  marry  him.  I 
would  never  have  urged  you  to  marry 
against  your  wishes,"  she  faltered. 

"I  do  love  him,  worship  him,  adore 
him,  but  don't  you  see  what  that  means 
for  me?  I  wanted  to  be  his  wife,  but  I 
can't  be.  Yet  I  have  to  stay  by  him,  see 
him,  hear  him,  see  how  good  and  dear 
he  is,  and  love  him  more  and  more  and 
more  every  day,  and  yet  show  nothing, 
conceal  my  own  feelings,  crush  them 
down,  trample  on  them;  and  this  goes 
on  hour  by  hour,  day  by  day,  there  is  no 
relief.  I  cannot  even  speak  of  my  love 
to  him.  I  cannot  open  my  lips  or  my 
heart  to  any  one.  I  am  like  one  in  ar- 
mour, in  an  iron  suit  that  I  can  never  take 
off,  and  the  weight  of  it  is  killing  me. 
And  now  I  can  never  get  out  of  this  life, 
can  I?  That's  what  maddens  me  so.  It 
87 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

is  for  ever  and  ever.  Can  I  get  out  of 
it,  that's  what  I  came  to  ask  you.  Can 
I?" 

She  was  trembling  all  over,  shaking  as 
a  quivering  leaf.  Her  face  was  blanched, 
her  eyes  had  a  wild  questioning  in  them 
as  they  sought  her  mother's  face. 

"No,  Flora,  no,  oh  no!"  returned  the 
other,  quickly.  "You  must  never  think 
of  such  a  thing.  It  would  be  too  dread- 
ful for  us  all,  for  Bruce,  for  me,  for  your 
father,  your  sisters.  It's  impossible. 
You  must  make  the  best  of  it  now.  And 
what  a  mad  idea  when  you  have  so  much  1 
You  have  everything  in  life.  It  is  a  won- 
derful marriage  for  a  poor  girl  like  you  to 
have  made.  And  you  say  Bruce  is  so 
good  to  you.  Can't  you  be  content  with 
what  you  have?  I  was  really  astonished 
and  delighted  when  Bruce  came  to  me 
about  you.  You  may  not  realise  it,  but 
88 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

you  have  married  a  man  of  old  family, 
good  position,  really  colossal  wealth." 

"And  I  would  rather  have  married  a 
collier,  a  road-mender,  a  man  with  noth- 
ing in  the  world  that  I  could  have  loved 
and  who  could  have  loved  me,"  replied 
the  girl,  bitterly.  "Whatever  you  do  not 
have  in  life,  if  you  have  love,  you  are  in 
sunshine.  Whatever  you  may  have,  if 
you  have  not  love,  you  live  in  a  cold, 
damp  cave,  where  the  sun  never  comes." 

She  shivered  and  looked  so  ill — the 
white  butterfly  lying  maimed  in  the 
furrow — that  it  went  to  the  mother's 
heart. 

"Do  not  excite  yourself  so,  Flora,  you 
will  get  ill.  Now  you  have  come  up  you 
must  stay  all  day  with  me.  It  will  do  you 
good  to  talk.  Let  me  ring  for  luncheon ; 
you  look  wretched,  as  if  you  needed  some- 
thing to  eat  and  drink." 
89 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

She  rose  and  rang  the  bell.  The  girl 
leant  back  in  her  chair  with  a  dreary 
smile.  Last  time  she  had  sat  in  this  little 
room,  how  happy  she  had  been — prepar- 
ing for  the  morrow,  that  great  to-morrow 
that  was  to  begin  her  life,  and  that 
now,  looking  back,  she  saw  had  ended 
it! 

"You  see,  dear,  I  want  you  to  try  and 
be  reasonable,"  resumed  her  mother,  when 
she  came  back  to  her  seat.  "No  one  has 
everything  in  life.  You  have  such  a 
great  deal,  a  lovely  house,  a  splendid  po- 
sition, unlimited  means,  and  a  nice,  good- 
looking  man  to  go  about  with  and  who 
is  devoted  to  you.  You  have  no  illness, 
no  suffering,  no  bother  of  the  children, 
nothing  asked  of  you  in  return,  only  to 
dress  well,  to  look  well,  to  amuse  your- 
self. I  assure  you  that  is  the  ideal  of  life 
of  thousands  and  thousands  of  girls  to- 
90 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

day.  The  tiresome  love-part  you  seem  to 
think  so  much  of,  they  would  be  only  too 
glad  to  get  rid  of." 

Flora's  beautiful,  restless,  weary  eyes 
turned  on  her  mother. 

"But  all  that  is  only  just  the  outside  of 
life,  the  fringe,  as  it  were,  the  little  details 
that  don't  much  matter.  I  want  the  real 
things,  the  great  emotions.  I  don't  want 
just  the  garments  and  make-up  of  life,  I 
want  its  soul,  and,"  she  added,  after  an 
instant,  "I  must  have  it,  find  it.  I  must 
get  out  of  this  empty  existence." 

Mrs.  Howard  looked  terrified.  "Flora, 
you  must  not  say  such  things,  you  must 
not  dream  of  leaving  your  husband.  Your 
sister  is  just  engaged  to  Sir  Edward  Wil- 
son, a  most  particular  man.  If  you  make 
the  least  scandal,  the  engagement  would 
be  broken  off  and  her  life  would  be 
ruined." 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"And  what  about  my  life,  that  is 
ruined;  that  does  not  matter?" 

"As  far  as  I  can  see,  you're  a  very 
lucky  girl.  In  any  case,  whatever  you  do 
now  to  change  it  will  make  things  worse." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  then  Flora 
said — 

"Who  is  going  to  marry  Sir  Edward? 
Is  it  Kitty?  Does  she  love  him?" 

The  mother  made  a  movement  of  im- 
patience. 

"I  don't  know  about  loving;  he  is  a 
very  good  match." 

"But  don't  let  her  do  it,  if  she  does  not 
love  him,"  Flora  answered  excitedly. 
"Mamma,  you  know  what  love  is,  you  ran 
away  with  your  husband  at  fifteen. 
You've  always  said  how  much  you  loved 
him." 

"Yes,  I  did ;  but  you  don't  know,  Flora, 
92 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

how  I  have  suffered.  We  were  dread- 
fully poor.  It  is  a  frightful  thing  in  this 
civilised  world  to  know  the  children  are 
coming  each  year  and  your  husband  is  dis- 
tressed each  time  because  he  knows  he 
cannot  support  them.  I  suffered  so  much 
I  determined  my  daughters  should  not  go 
through  the  same  if  I  could  help  it.  You 
can't  follow  the  laws  of  Nature  as  our  so- 
cial world  is  now.  You  can't  do  what  is 
right  and  live  as  we  were  intended  to  live. 
If  any  one  tries  to  obey  the  laws  of  Na- 
ture, they  get  crushed  and  killed  by  the 
laws  of  man,  that's  all." 

Flora  looked  up  at  her  despairingly. 
She  had  come  here  hoping  to  find  some 
help,  some  clue  by  which  she  might  escape 
from  her  prison,  but  there  seemed  no  hope 
anywhere. 

"Promise  me  you  won't  think  of  any- 
93 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

thing  so  silly,  so  wicked,  as  leaving  Bruce 
— if  not  for  my  or  his  or  your  own  sake, 
for  your  sister's." 

Flora  sprang  to  her  feet.  "No!  no 
promise;  I  can't  promise  anything  more. 
Have  I  not  made  all  those  terrible,  sense- 
less promises  in  the  church?  Am  I  not 
weighted  with  them  enough?  I  was 
betrayed  into  promising  those  things.  I 
won't  promise  anything  of  my  free  will. 
I  don't  know  where  my  path  will  take  me. 
I  cannot  see  anything." 

Mrs.  Howard  rose  too,  looking  whiter 
than  her  daughter;  but  before  either  of 
them  could  speak  again,  the  door  opened, 
and  Kitty  Howard  came  in  and  Kitty's 
fiance. 

"Oh,  have  you  come  up,  Flora?  How 
lovely!"  she  said,  coming  forward  and 
kissing  her.  "This  is  Eddy.  I  wanted 
94 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

you  to  meet.  Eddy,  this  is  Flora,  Mrs. 
Challoner,  you  know." 

Flora  saw  a  small,  pale  man,  middle- 
aged  and  grey-haired,  wearing  specta- 
cles. 

She  bowed,  and  he  bowed  solemnly,  as 
if  he  felt  what  a  very  important  person  he 
was.  They  exchanged  a  few  common- 
place remarks,  and  then  he  turned  to  Mrs. 
Howard,  and  Kitty  drew  Flora  away  to 
the  farthest  corner  of  the  room. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you;  and  what  a 
lovely  gown!  But  you  look  so  pale  and 
sad,  quite  ill.  What  is  it,  Flora?  Aren't 
you  happy  with  Bruce?" 

The  younger  girl  spoke  a  few  hurried 
sentences,  and  Kitty  nodded. 

"I  know.  Mamma  told  me  that  Bruce 
mustn't  be  worried,  nor  take  anything 
seriously;  but  then,  he  is  such  a  dear, 
95 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

isn't  he?  and  we  thought  you'd  have  such 
a  jolly  time — no  illness  or  worries  or  any- 
thing." 

"Tell  me  about  yourself,"  said  Flora, 
hurriedly. 

What  was  the  good  of  talking  about 
herself  to  other  people?  As  far  as  com- 
prehending her  went,  they  might  be  sav- 
ages in  the  bush. 

"Why  are  you  engaged  to  Sir  Edward? 
I  thought  you  were  in  love  with  Ar- 
thur?" ^ 

The  other  girl  flushed  beautifully. 
"Oh,  so  I  was !  Why  did  you  remind  me 
of  him?  I  was,  I  was;  but  then,  you  see, 
there's  no  money,  and  mamma  said  I'd 
better  not,  and  he  himself — you  know, 
he's  only  a  lieutenant — he  said  we 
couldn't." 

"But  don't  let  the  money  stand  in  the 
way,"  said  Flora,  eagerly.  "Let  me  tell 
96 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

Bruce.     He    likes    you,    he'd    give   you 
enough  to  marry  on." 

aOh,  I  don't  think  Arthur  would  like 
that;  and  then,  it's  not  only  that,  he's  no 
position,  we'd  be  nobodies.  It's  so  dif- 
ferent with  Eddy;  and  then,  a  title  is 
worth  something." 

"But  Arthur  is  so  handsome  and  you 
love  him,  don't  give  that  up  for  anything, 
Kitty,"  returned  Flora,  feverishly,  "you'll 
regret  it.  What  does  a  stupid  title  mat- 
ter?" 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  make  me  think  of 
Arthur.  I  am  trying  all  I  can  to  forget 
him.  I  tell  you  I  should  not  like  to  live 
always  as  poor  as  we  are  now.  Eddy  can 
give  me  lots  of  dress  and  things,  though 
of  course  we  shan't  be  nearly  as  rich  as 
you  are.  What  a  lovely  necklet  that  is 
you  are  wearing!  How  I  would  love  a 
thing  like  thatl" 

97 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Flora  put  both  hands  up  to  her  neck 
and  unclasped  the  necklet,  a  string  of 
magnificent  emeralds,  dark,  large,  per- 
fectly matched,  swinging  on  a  thread  of 
gold  chain. 

"Do  take  them,  then,"  she  said,  hand- 
ing them  to  the  astonished  girl. 

"Oh  no ;  you  mustn't!  Bruce  wouldn't 
like  you  to  give  them  away,  Flora.  Put 
them  back." 

"Bruce  will  never  know  or  care  any- 
thing about  it.  I  have  a  hundred  sets 
like  that  of  different  stones.  Besides,  he 
would  like  me  to  give  them  to  you  if  I 
want  to.  It  does  seem  such  a  pity,  in  this 
life,  that  no  one  should  have  what  they 
want.  I  wish  I  could  be  made  happy  by 
a  row  of  green  stones." 

Kitty  was  clasping  them  round  her  neck 
delightedly  before  the  glass.  They  shone 
beautifully  on  her  open-work  cambric 
98 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

blouse,  and  seemed  to  enhance  the  deli- 
cate fairness  of  her  face. 

"Thank  you  so  much,"  she  said,  enthu- 
siastically kissing  her;  "they  are  lovely! 
I  just  adore  them." 

The  luncheon  was  announced  at  that 
moment,  and  they  all  sat  down  to  it  to- 
gether. 

Flora  liked  her  future  brother-in-law 
less  and  less  as  he  talked  in  a  tiresome, 
formal  manner,  and  her  eyes  kept  wander- 
ing from  his  pale,  lifeless  face  to  the  gay, 
radiant  youth  of  her  sister's  laughing 
across  at  her,  elated,  overjoyed  at  the  new 
possession  of  her  green  stones. 

After  lunch  Flora  said  she  must  go. 
From  the  Towers  she  had  wanted  to  come 
here,  hoping  vaguely  to  find  help  and 
counsel.  Now  she  was  here,  she  wanted 
to  get  away.  She  had  only  learned  there 
was  no  help. 

99 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

Her  mother  followed  her  into  her  bed- 
room, and  stayed  with  her  while  she  ar- 
ranged her  hat  and  veil. 

"Promise  me,  Flora,  you  will  do  noth- 
ing rash?"  she  implored  again. 

"I  have  told  you,  mamma,  I  cannot 
promise  anything.  You  never  should 
have  deceived  Bruce  about  me.  You 
never  should  have  put  me  in  this  awful 
position." 

"It  was  not  deceiving  Bruce,  Flora. 
I  thought  you  were  quite  ignorant,  quite 
a  child.  You  had  been  allowed  no  books, 
no  newspapers  .  .  ." 

"Books!  Newspapers!"  repeated  the 
girl,  desperately.  "Was  it  books  and 
newspapers  that  made  you  run  away  with 
papa?" 

Mrs.  Howard  was  silent,  watching  the 
girl's  trembling  fingers  as  she  refastened 
her  veil. 

100 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

"My  darling,  I  am  sorry.  It  was  a 
mistake,  but  only  a  mistake,  Flora.  There 
was  no  intention  to  deceive.  In  any  case, 
now  I  do  beg  you  to  think  of  all  you  have, 
and  remember  you  are  very  young. 
When  Bruce  dies " 

"Don't  speak  of  Bruce  dying!  I  can't 
bear  it.  When  he  dies — if  he  does  before 
I  do — it  would  be  so  terrible  for  me;  it 
would  break  me  up  utterly.  My  life 
would  be  at  an  end.  I  couldn't  enjoy  any- 
thing again." 

Mrs.  Howard  looked  astonished.  "But 
surely  you  are  rather  inconsistent!  You 
talk  of  leaving  your  husband,  and  yet  you 
can't  bear  to  hear  of  his  dying!" 

"Because  the  things  are  quite  different. 
I  love  Bruce.  I  want  him  to  live  and  be 
happy.  But  I  want  my  own  life,  too. 
Why  should  I  not  have  it?  Why  should 
I  waste  it  at  the  Towers?  Bruce  himself 
101 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

does  not  wish  it,  now  that  he  understands. 
Our  marriage  has  been  a  mistake.  Can't 
we  just  separate  now,  and  both  live  and  be 
happy?" 

The  horrified  look  came  into  Mrs. 
Howard's  face  again. 

"Oh,  no,  Flora,  certainly  not!" 

"But  we  both  wish  it." 

"You  know  that  is  just  it.  If  you  both 
wish  a  separation  or  a  divorce,  you  can't 
get  it." 

"Mamma!  What  is  marriage  for?  Is 
it  instituted  to  bind  two  people  together 
who  both  want  to  get  away  from  each 
other?" 

Mrs.  Howard  was  silent  for  a  moment; 
then  she  said — 

"Ye— es,  Flora,  I  think  it  is." 

"Well,  why  isn't  that  part  down  in  the 
Prayer-book?" 

102 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"Because  it  wouldn't  sound  well,  I  sup- 
pose." 

Flora  gave  a  little  bitter  laugh.  "No, 
mamma;  do  you  know  I  don't  think  it 
would  sound  very  well." 

She  finally  straightened  her  hat,  fas- 
tened the  last  button  of  her  gloves,  and 
then  came  and  kissed  her  mother. 

"Good-bye,  mamma;  remember  I 
promise  nothing." 

Downstairs  she  told  her  chauffeur  to 
drive  "anywhere  where  the  streets  are 
most  crowded — Piccadilly,  Regent  Street, 
where  there  are  shops  and  people.  Drive 
as  long  as  you  can  in  the  streets,  and  then 
turn  home.  See  that  we  get  back  to  the 
Towers  before  eleven." 

She  had  the  hood  put  up.     Then  she 
sat  forward,  gazing  through  the  side  win- 
dow, as  the  motor  whirled  out  of  the  quiet 
103 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

street  into  Piccadilly.  She  did  not  see 
the  women  in  the  streets,  nor  their  gowns, 
nor  the  shops;  she  only  looked  at  the 
men.  What  numbers  there  were!  lines 
and  lines  of  them,  men  of  every  kind, 
walking  each  way  on  those  pavements. 
She  looked  at  them  all,  curiously.  What 
a  wide  choice  she  had  had!  Was  it  for 
ever  closed  to  her  now?. 


104 


CHAPTER  III 

IT  had  been  a  hard  winter  and  the  snow 
had  lain  long  and  deep  round  Carlingford 
Towers,  but  now  the  spring  had  come; 
everywhere  the  last  thin  crusts  of  white 
were  melting;  snowdrops  were  rising  on 
all  sides,  bands  of  yellow  primroses  bor- 
dered the  streams,  gushes  of  warm  sun- 
shine poured  through  the  copses,  the  air 
was  full  of  the  notes  of  birds. 

The  southern  gallery  of  the  Towers  ran 
along  the  south  side  of  one  wing,  and  in 
the  winter  made  a  delightful  place  for  a 
promenade;  carpeted  in  all  its  length  and 
breadth;  with  old  tapestry  on  one  wall, 
and  the  high  windows,  letting  in  the  sun- 
light on  the  other  side;  furnished  with 
105 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

numerous  well-kept  stoves  and  crowded 
with  cabinets  full  of  wonders  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  this  gallery  made  a 
sunny,  restful  place  in  which  to  spend  idle 
hours. 

On  this  afternoon,  late  in  January,  it 
seemed  brighter  than  usual.  The  sun 
poured  in,  making  great  bands  of  light 
across  the  floor  and  showing  up  the  dim 
colours  in  the  tapestry.  The  stoves  were 
all  burning  brightly,  making  a  cheerful 
crackle  as  they  blazed. 

At  the  far  end,  standing  behind  a  large 
and  very  complicated-looking  camera, 
was  a  young  man  busily  engaged  in  fo- 
cussing, so  as  to  obtain  a  complete  view  of 
the  whole  length  of  the  gallery.  He 
hummed  gaily  to  himself  as  he  varied  the 
lens,  looking  through  the  slide,  re-set  the 
camera  in  a  new  position,  went  through,  in 
short,  all  the  peculiar  manoeuvres  neces- 
106 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

sary  for  the  perfect  photograph.  And  in 
all  these  motions  and  changes  of  position, 
the  quick  lightness  and  ease  of  movement, 
the  trim  suppleness  of  his  figure,  was  re- 
markably striking.  He  had  a  very  hand- 
some head,  suggesting  he  would  make  as 
good  a  sitter  for  a  photo  as  he  was  photog- 
rapher. As  he  bent  now  and  then  in  per- 
plexity over  the  lens  that  would  not  screw 
exactly  as  he  wanted  it,  the  sun  struck 
upon  his  hair,  showing  the  immense  thick- 
ness of  its  glossy  brown  waves;  another 
sun-ray  slanted  across  his  cheek,  lighting 
up  the  clear  warm  tint  of  the  brown  skin. 
His  eyes  were  so  large  and  so  dark,  it  was 
impossible  to  tell  their  colour,  except 
when  turned  to  the  light,  and  then  one 
saw  they  were  grey-blue.  But  far  greater 
than  any  charm  of  colour  or  feature  that 
he  had  was  the  magic  of  his  intense  vi- 
tality, the  wonderful  health  and  triumph- 
107 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

ant  life  that  he  displayed  in  each  quick, 
deft  movement,  in  the  alert  pose  of  the 
head,  in  each  varying  expression  that 
passed  over  his  face  bent  above  the  inani- 
mate machine. 

"I  wonder  what  is  the  matter  with  it?" 
he  muttered  to  himself,  after  a  minute,  as 
he  finally  unscrewed  the  lens  and  carried 
it  over  to  the  stove  with  the  intention  of 
warming  and  expanding  the  metal  rim. 

As  he  did  so,  he  saw  a  door  in  the  side 
of  the  gallery  open,  a  piece  of  tapestry 
swing  as  it  was  pushed  aside,  and  a  girl 
dressed  in  white  serge  enter  and  come 
slowly,  rather  aimlessly,  down  the  gallery 
towards  him.  She  was  quite  unconscious 
of  her  companion,  and  the  young  man's 
keen  gaze  took  in  undisturbed  every  de- 
tail of  her  figure,  hair,  and  pale,  tired- 
looking  face. 

It  was  Flora.  She  came  down  quite 
108 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

close  to  where  he  stood  without  seeing 
him,  and  turned  to  one  of  the  long  win- 
dows, pressing  her  face  to  the  glass  and 
looking  out  over  the  beautiful  slopes  and 
uplands,  merry  and  bright,  now  laughing 
under  the  warm  January  sun. 

"I  am  so  utterly,  absolutely  miserable," 
she  said  quite  audibly.  "I  wonder  if  it 
will  ever  end?  I  wonder  what  will  hap- 
pen?" 

The  man  by  the  stove  set  down  a  pair 
of  nippers  on  it  with  a  little  rattle.  He 
hated  to  startle  her,  but  he  could  not  play 
at  eavesdropping  like  this.  The  steel 
rattle  did  startle  her.  She  turned  round 
quickly  and  found  herself  face  to  face 
with  his  handsome,  radiant  countenance, 
flushed  now  with  annoyance  over  his  work 
and  the  heat  of  the  stove. 

"You  oughtn't  to  be  miserable,"  he  said 
simply  and  pointedly,  as  if  it  were  the 
109 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

most  natural  thing  in  the  world  for  him 
to  be  there  and  offering  his  sympathy. 

She  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  her 
eyes  held  and  fascinated  by  the  vivid  life 
in  his  face. 

"Well,  I  am  utterly,"  she  returned. 
She  was  so  full  of  savage  pain  that  she 
had  always  to  keep  concealed  that  she  felt 
conventionalities  and  etiquette  were  noth- 
ing to  her — a  companion  was  somehow  in 
this  gallery,  how  or  why,  she  did  not 
know.  He  was  not  a  guest  at  the  Tow- 
ers. She  saw  he  was  a  gentleman,  but  in 
that  moment,  that  stress  of  feeling,  she 
would  have  spoken  in  the  same  way  to  a 
good-looking  burglar. 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  the  man  said  gently; 
and  he  felt  so  because  she  looked  pretty, 
standing  with  her  back  to  the  window, 
and  all  the  sun  pouring  through  her  light 
hair  till  it  appeared  like  gold  flame.  No 
no 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

man  ever  feels  a  bit  sorry  for  an  old  and 
ugly  woman,  though  she  really  needs  sym- 
pathy, but  he  always  gives  largely  of  his 
stock  to  the  young  and  pretty  one. 
"Are  you?  I  wonder  why?" 
She  liked  looking  at  his  face,  and  she 
was  afraid  if  she  did  not  say  something 
he  would  turn  to  his  camera  again,  which 
she  now  noticed  a  little  way  from  the 
stove.  How  nice  it  was  that  they  were 
not  in  a  drawing-room,  that  they  had  not 
been  introduced,  that  she  was  not  bound 
to  say  certain  things,  that  she  could  say 
anything  she  liked!  What  a  gloriously 
living  face  he  had!  When  had  she  ever 
seen  one  like  it?  Certainly  not  at  the 
Towers.  Heaps  of  men  came  there  who 
looked  in  good  health ;  but  then  they  were 
mostly  so  heavy  too — robust,  strong,  but 
unintellectual,  entirely  material.  This 
man's  face  combined  the  look  of  good 
in 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

health  and  physical  strength  with  such 
extreme  intelligence.  The  brilliance  of 
the  mind  was  there,  as  well  as  the  radiance 
of  the  body. 

"You  wonder  why  I  am  sorry  you  are 
miserable?"  he  asked,  laughing;  and  his 
laugh  was  so  spontaneous,  the  white  ring 
of  his  teeth  so  perfect,  even  to  the  very 
back,  that  the  girl  gazed  upon  him  curi- 
ously, as  upon  a  new  species.  In  Eng- 
land our  civilisation  does  not  produce 
this  type.  After  the  first  few  years  of 
youth,  during  which  the  beauty  of  the 
physique  is  spoilt  by  the  stodgy  unintel- 
lectuality  and  inexperience  of  the  mind, 
bald  heads,  lined  rough  skins,  and  gold- 
stopped  teeth  are  the  rule. 

Where  had  this  bright,  handsome,  cu- 
rious animal  sprung  from? 

"Because,"  he  continued,  "it  seems  so 
112 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

inappropriate.  You  are  young  and 
pretty,  and  you  ought  to  be  happy." 

"I  was  young  once,"  returned  Flora, 
dismally,  "and  pretty  too,  but  I  don't 
believe  I  am  either  now." 

At  this  the  man  went  into  a  further 
peal  of  laughter. 

"You  can  take  my  word  for  it,  then," 
he  answered  lightly.  "Shall  I  take  a 
photo  of  you,  and  then  you  will  see?" 

"No;  I  think  I  had  better  not  let  you 
do  that,"  she  answered  hesitatingly. 
"Are  you  busy?  I  expect  I  am  hinder- 
ing you.  Shall  I  go?" 

"No;  please  don't,"  he  returned  ea- 
gerly. "Look  here,  I  was  just  going  to 
break  off  work  and  have  tea.  I  have  my 
own  tea-basket  there.  Stay  and  have  it 
with  me,  will  you?" 

He  was  quite  aware  that  Flora  was 
"3 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

mistress  of  the  Towers,  and  she  somehow 
felt  he  was  aware  of  it.  But  the  social 
position  of  any  woman  that  he  met  was 
nothing  to  this  man.  For  him  a  woman 
of  whatever  rank  or  class  (if  she  were  in 
any  way  attractive)  was  pre-eminently  a 
woman.  That  first  and  everything  else 
afterwards.  He  loved  women,  and  knew 
exactly  how  to  manage  the  dangerous 
creatures.  He  was  not  a  bit  afraid  of 
any  of  them,  and  generally  trusted  to 
his  good  looks  and  personal  charm  to 
get  him  out  of  any  scrape  he  got  into,  and 
to  win  their  love  and  affection  all  round, 
however  badly  he  behaved. 

He  turned  to  his  tea-basket  now,  and 
putting  down  one  side,  displayed  the 
bright  inviting-looking  contents. 

"Say  you  will,"  he  said  persuasively, 
drawing  a  low  easy-chair  from  the  wall, 
and  putting  it  by  the  stove. 
114 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

Flora  looked  at  her  tiny  diamond 
watch.  It  was  only  five.  She  was  sa 
tired  of  the  routine  things  she  had  to  do. 
For  once  she  would  neglect  her  place  at 
the  tea-table.  She  might  be  supposed  to 
be  lying  down.  She  had  felt  quite  ill 
enough  when  she  had  entered  the  gallery. 
She  would  stay  here  now  and  do  for  once 
something  different.  She  felt  happy  and 
amused.  She  wanted  to  stay.  What  a 
new  feeling  that  was!  She  hardly  ever 
wanted  to  do  anything  now.  She  sat 
down  in  the  chair. 

"Very  good;  I'll  stay  if  you  make  it." 

He  devoted  himself  at  once  to  lighting 
his  lamp  and  putting  on  the  already-filled 
kettle  while  she  watched  him. 

"What  are  you?"  she  asked  curiously. 
"You  are  not  English,  I'm  sure!" 

"No;  I  am  half  Welsh  and  half  South 
of  France,  and  have  spent  nearly  all  of 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

my  life  in  the  East.  So  you  see  I  am 
rather  a  mixture." 

That  explained  his  face,  she  thought. 
From  Wales  he  received  that  fire  and 
light  in  the  eyes,  from  the  Latin  race 
that  well-formed  mouth  and  perfect  teeth 
— things  almost  unknown  amongst  the 
English. 

"And  what  are  you  doing  here?"  she 
pursued,  wondering  at  the  feeling  of  en- 
joyment it  gave  her  to  talk  to  and  gaze 
upon  him. 

"I  got  Mr.  Challoner's  permission  to 
photograph  the  Towers.  It  is  such  a 
lovely  place.  I  want  the  photographs 
to  illustrate  a  book  I  am  bringing  out 
on  the  ancient  homes  of  England.  I 
should  like  rery  much  to  add  a  chapter 
on  their  mistresses  too,"  he  said,  laugh- 
ing. 

"I  do  hope  they,  most  of  them,  have 
116 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

more  interesting  lives  than  mine,"  she 
said  gloomily.  "I  have  been  here  ten 
years — just  think,  ten  whole  years — and 
it  has  gone  like  one  day,  or  rather  like 
one  night,  for  I  seem  to  have  been 
asleep;  I  have  felt  nothing,  had  almost 
no  emotions,  only  petty  worries  and 
anxieties  over  small  things.  One  year's 
programme  is  just  like  another.  We  go 
to  town  in  the  spring,  and  then  it  seems 
one  interminable  dressing,  arranging  of 
social  things,  standing  or  sitting  in 
crowded  rooms.  Then  there  are  the 
house-parties  here,  more  worry  and'trou- 
ble  to  keep  a  lot  of  silly,  unamiable  peo- 
ple from  fighting  together.  Then  comes 
the  winter.  My  husband  is  too  delicate 
for  much  exertion  or  excitement,  so  we 
spend  it  here  seven  months,  doing  the 
same  things  every  day.  On  and  on  one 
goes,  just  like  a  squirrel  in  its  wheel- 
117 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

cage,  growing  dreadfully  tired  and  get- 
ting nowhere." 

"But,  surely,  in  the  season  in  town  you 
get  some  fun,  don't  you? — dances,  flirta- 
tions ;  even  going  into  a  ball-room  beauti- 
fully dressed  and  feeling  you  are  admired 
is  supposed  to  be  a  woman's  happiness." 

"For  some  women  perhaps;  but  not  if 
you  are  always  carrying  about  with  you  a 
hungry  mind  and  brain.  Of  course,  the 
dancing  might  be  delightful,  but  then, 
you  know,  most  Englishmen  can't  dance 
a  bit,  and  suppose  there  is  a  young  lieu- 
tenant who  dances  divinely,  do  you  think 
I  can  have  more  than  one  dance  with 
him?  Of  course  not.  I  have  to  be  dan- 
cing or  sitting  out  with  all  the  old  fossils 
who  happen  to  have  the  same  rank  as  my 
husband.  Oh  no,  it's  all  frightfully 
monotonous  and  boring.  That's  what  I 
complain  of  most — the  want  of  change; 
118 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

every  year's  days  are  exactly  like  every 
other  year's  days.  Tell  me,  what  do  you 
do?  What  has  your  life  been  the  last  ten 
years?" 

"Oh,  well,  mine's  all  change,"  he  re- 
turned lightly,  having  made  the  tea  to  his 
satisfaction,  and  now  handing  her  a  cup. 
"I  never  know  what  will  happen.  I  like 
excitement,  and  I  love  travelling,  seeing 
new  scenes,  new  places  and  people.  I  am 
not  bothered  by  being  rich,  but  I've 
enough  to  go  about  where  I  like,  writing 
and  sketching  and  photographing.  I  am 
'an  idle  loiterer  by  the  world's  green 
ways.'  I  have  wandered  all  over  the 
world  pretty  well.  I  am  going  out  again 
now  soon  for  a  trip  in  the  Himalayas. 
It  is  splendid  in  the  morning  at  dawn  to 
come  out  of  your  tent  and  see  the  snow- 
white  world  of  Kinchinjunga  before  you, 
the  clear,  light  blue  overhead,  and  hear 
119 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

the  pure,  thin  ice-crust  crackle  under  your 
tread.  Then  the  blue  spiral  of  your 
camp-fire  smoke  rises  through  the  air  with 
a  scent  like  incense.  Ah,  that  scent  of 
the  camp-fire!" 

He  broke  off  abruptly,  as  past  scenes 
swept  before  him  too  vivid  to  put  into 
words. 

The  girl  listened  with  sparkling  eyes, 
leaning  forward  towards  him. 

"Go  on,  tell  me  more;  I  love  it." 

"Alaska  is  interesting,  with  its  glaciers, 
those  wonderful  glaciers  moving  on- 
wards, always,  their  great  rainbow-tinted 
ice-fields  to  the  sea,  and  those  blue  Arctic 
seas  themselves,  with  their  floating  bergs, 
giant  prisms  of  colour.  From  there  you 
can  go  straight  to  the  Tropics,  if  you  want 
contrast;  the  waving  palms,  the  coral 
reefs,  the  endless  sun  on  the  orange  sands, 
they  are  equally  beautiful.  Ceylon,  with 
1 20 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

its  fairy  spice-laden  breezes,  the  Indian 
Ocean,  with  its  blue,  buoyant,  rolling 
waves;  the  Soudan,  with  its  crystal 
mirage  in  the  centre  of  its  burning  sand. 
Oh,  this  world  is  magnificent!  I  never 
get  tired  of  it!" 

"It  must  be  seen  as  you  see  it.  When 
we  go  abroad  we  just  go  to  the  Riviera, 
do  the  same  as  we  do  here,  and  then  come 
back.  But  don't  you  feel  lonely?  Are 
you  alone?"  she  asked  suddenly,  as  an 
afterthought  struck  her. 

"I  am  a  great  deal  alone.  Not  always, 
of  course." 

They  looked  across  at  each  other.  His 
eyes  met  hers  steadily,  but  a  clear  colour 
burned  in  his  cheeks  as  he  said  the  last 
words.  It  was  conveyed  to  Flora.  She 
felt  that  his  companions,  when  he  had 
them,  were  women. 

There  was  a  pause  of  silence,  in  which 

121 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

she  drank  up  her  tea,  and  he  refilled  her 
cup  from  his  steaming  kettle-teapot. 

"After  all,  we  are  camping  here,"  he 
said  lightly,  after  a  moment. 

"It's  not  as  good  as  the  Himalayas, 
though,  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"I  don't  know.  Under  these  particu- 
lar circumstances" — and  he  looked  ad- 
miringly into  her  smiling  blue  eyes — "I 
think  it  is  better." 

Flora  laughed  and  looked  at  her  watch. 
To  her  astonishment  it  was  nearly  six. 
She  sprang  up. 

"I  had  no  idea  I  had  been  here  so  long! 
I  hate  going  now,  just  when  I  have  gob- 
bled up  all  that  nice  tea  you  made  me, 
but  I  must,  because  some  new  people 
were  expected  down  by  the  six  train. 
Good-bye.  Thank  you  so  much." 

Meredith  rose  and  took  her  out- 
122 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

stretched  hand;  his  was  very  warm,  and 
its  clasp  very  strong. 

"Your  visit  to  me  here  has  given  me  so 
much  pleasure.  I  can't  thank  you  enough 
for  this  happy  afternoon.  Shall  I  see  you 
to-morrow?" 

Flora  hesitated,  looking  at  him  with 
uncertain  eyes.  She  would  like  to  see 
him  again,  yet  something  within  her 
warned  her  to  say  "No."  The  habit  of 
self-denial,  self-repression,  and  negation 
was  so  strong  in  her  that  it  would  not 
really  have  been  difficult  for  her  to  say 
it  then.  But  a  sudden  thought — perhaps 
it  ran  along  from  his  brain  into  hers 
through  their  clasped  hands — said,  "Why 
should  you  deny  yourself  a  little  harmless 
enjoyment  like  this?  Your  whole  time  is 
spent  in  doing  things  you  don't  like;  you 
can  surely  give  yourself  a  little  amuse- 
123 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

ment  now  you   have   the   opportunity." 

She  yielded  to  the  impulse. 
"Yes,  I  will  come  here  to-morrow." 
"Thank  you  so  much.     I  shan't  think 

of  anything  now  but  three  o'clock  to-mor- 


row." 


He  raised  her  hand  that  he  was  hold- 
ing to  his  lips  and  kissed  it.  The  action 
was  very  differential,  courteous,  and 
quiet,  but  the  touch  on  her  skin  seemed 
to  burn  into  it.  She  had  had  her  hand 
kissed  before  by  ambassadors  and  others, 
but  somehow  this  was  different. 

She  drew  it  away  quickly,  suddenly 
turned  and  walked  away  to  the  farther 
end  of  the  gallery,  reached  the  door,  and 
went  out. 

Meredith  stood  looking  after  her,  keep- 
ing himself  in  check  from  following  and 
overtaking  her.  The  touch  of  her  hand 
to  his  lips  had  shaken  him  also  with  emo- 
124 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

tion,  although  to  him  as  to  her  there  was 
nothing  new  or  extraordinary  in  the  ac- 
tion itself.  But  this  hand  was  different 
from  the  others ;  very  smooth  and  soft,  it 
seemed  to  him  for  the  moment  that  he 
had  a  white  rose  under  his  lips. 

He  turned  frowning  to  the  casement 
when  the  door  was  shut  and  he  was  left 
alone,  looking  out.  He  realised  what  had 
happened,  that  Nature's  strange  circle  of 
electricity  had  been  set  up  between  him 
and  this  girl,  and  unless  broken  now  at 
once  it  would  go  on  growing  stronger 
and  stronger,  pulling  the  two  organisms 
irresistibly  together  in  the  iron  bands  that 
hereafter  nothing,  perhaps,  would  be 
strong  enough  to  break. 

He  leant  against  the  casement  for  a 
long  while  in  silence. 

"She  has  had  ten  years  of  it,"  he  mut- 
tered half  aloud,  after  a  long  time,  "and 
125 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

is  wretched.  It  only  shows  how  little 
material  possessions  go  for  in  this  world." 
There  was  another  silence  while  painful 
thoughts  crowded  on  in  his  mind  and 
threw  their  dark  reflections  on  to  his 
frowning  brows  and  troubled  eyes. 
"She  says  she  was  so  miserable,  and  God 
knows  I  am  too.  It's  such  an  empty 
dog's  life,  living  always  alone."  Silence, 
then  suddenly — "I  wonder  whether  I  had 
better  start  for  India  at  once?"  He 
turned  to  pack  up  his  tea-basket  and  cam- 
era. "I  think  I  must  come  to-morrow, 
anyhow.  She  would  be  certainly  dis- 
appointed if  I  were  not  here  in  the  gallery 
when  she  comes."  And  he  smiled.  His 
thoughts  had  gone  on  now,  and  were  rest- 
ing on  to-morrow  and  seeing  her  again. 
He  did  not  decide  anything  further  than 
that.  He  would  come  once  more,  the 
future  for  the  present  he  left  to  itself. 
126 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

Flora  ran  upstairs  with  quick  light  feet, 
and  when  she  found  herself  in  her  room, 
fastened  the  door,  and  then  walked  over 
it  from  end  to  end,  thinking  over  her 
meeting  in  the  gallery.  She  had  seen  so 
many,  many  people  in  these  ten  years, 
heard  so  many  compliments,  been  ad- 
mired, feted,  loved.  One  man  had  shot 
himself  for  her  sake,  because  she  had  told 
him  how  impossible  it  would  be  for  her 
to  ever  return  a  fraction  of  that  love  she 
had  unconsciously  excited  in  him.  These 
things  had  happened  and  left  her  in  her- 
self quite  unmoved.  She  was  sorry  when 
men  said  they  loved  her,  sorry  for  them, 
that  was  all.  For  herself  they  might  all 
have  been  cardboard  and  paper  for  all 
the  effect  they  had  on  her.  And  now 
suddenly  she  had  stumbled  unexpectedly 
on  this  unknown  visitor  in  the  gallery, 
and  that  formal  kiss  on  her  hand  seemed 
127 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

to  have  shocked  and  wakened  her,  lighted 
new  fires  in  her  brain,  put  before  her  a 
vision  of  new  things. 

Was  it  because  he  was  different  from 
the  other  men  she  met?  she  wondered. 
She  remembered  how  once  in  the  spring 
of  the  year,  she  had  been  sitting  on  the 
lawns  at  Carlingford,  and  all  around  her 
were  a  number  of  the  ordinary  black-and- 
white  water  wagtails,  happily  flying  or 
walking  across  the  green  turf,  fly-catch- 
ing, nesting,  feeding  their  young,  going 
through,  in  fact,  in  an  orderly  manner,  the 
whole  routine  of  wagtail  domestic  life, 
each  couple,  as  far  as  could  be  seen,  de- 
voted to  each  other. 

Suddenly  against  the  blue  above,  flash- 
ing in  the  sunlight,  appeared  a  golden 
wagtail.  He  was  not  black  and  white, 
nor  soft  dappled  grey,  nor  any  dim  quiet 
tint,  but  gold  and  orange  from  beak  to 
128 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

tail,  a  glorious,  beautiful  creature,  and 
instantly  there  was  confusion  and  com- 
motion in  the  wagtail  homes ;  the  devoted 
wives  and  mothers  left  their  nests,  their 
young,  their  fly-catching,  their  daily  avo- 
cations, and  flew  after  the  exciting 
stranger,  circling  round  him,  beckoning 
him,  pirouetting  in  the  air  before  him. 
They  paid  no  heed  to  the  angry  calls  from 
below  of  their  deserted  husbands.  Each 
bird  spouse  had  been  surrounded  all  her 
life  with  black-and-white  wagtails,  but  it 
was  not  till  the  golden  one  appeared  that 
she  lost  her  head  and  ran  away  from  her 
duties. 

Flora  had  been  interested  in  the  inci- 
dent, the  demonstration  of  the  charm  of 
novelty  upon  the  female  mind,  and  it  oc- 
curred to  her  now  as  she  thought  of  the 
brilliance  and  life  in  the  man's  face  and 
how  it  held  her  eyes.  She  had  not  very 
129 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

much  time  for  thought,  however,  for  they 
were  dining  early  and  giving  a  small 
dance  afterwards;  so  in  a  few  moments 
she  did  her  best  to  dismiss  it  from  her 
mind,  rang  for  her  maid,  and  began  to 
dress  for  dinner. 

The  maid  was  surprised  at  her  mis- 
tress's radiant  face  and  good  temper. 
Everything  seemed  to  please  her,  and  it 
was  no  trouble  to  find  the  right  jewels 
and  flowers  this  evening. 

Eventually  she  went  down  a  glorious 
vision  of  shimmering  white  satin  and  lace, 
amethysts  and  pearls,  and  snow-white 
arms  and  neck.  "I  wish  he  could  see  me 
now!"  was  her  thought  with  her  last 
glance  into  the  mirror. 

It  was  quite  a  large  dinner-party,  and 

she  felt  much  less  wearied  than  usual. 

Afterwards    the   dance   was    delightful; 

more  than  one  of  the  "old  fossils"  that  she 

130 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

set  out  with  went  away  to  his  room  that 
night  convinced  he  had  made  a  conquest, 
so  soft  was  her  silver  voice,  so  gay  her 
laugh  at  the  oft-told  stories,  so  pleased  her 
smile  at  all  he  said. 

Late  when  she  went  to  Bruce  to  say 
good  night,  he  asked  her  if  she  had  en- 
joyed the  evening. 

"Yes,  very  much,"  she  said,  and  so  far 
more  heartily  than  usual  that  Bruce 
looked  surprised,  and  it  was  all  only  be- 
cause deep  in  her  heart  nestled  the 
thought  of  her  meeting  with  Rhys  Mere- 
dith. 

That  night  she  did  not  sleep,  but,  her 
head  resting  on  the  lace-edged  pillow,  lay 
staring  with  open  eyes  into  the  darkness. 

She  thought  of  her  ten  past  years. 
She  had  been  good,  very  good,  all  that 
time.  She  did  not  think  so  with  vanity 


THE    LIFB    SENTENCE 

or  pride,  simply  her  conscience  told  her 
so.  She  had  held  herself  in  iron  subjec- 
tion. Never  by  word  or  look  had  she  led 
Bruce  to  those  quicksands  of  passion  in 
which  he  would  have  lost  his  life.  She 
had  suffered  and  wept  in  silence,  watched 
through  the  sleepless  nights,  seen  herself 
grow  thin  and  pallid,  been  wracked  by 
headaches  and  tortured  with  neuralgia, 
Nature's  revenges  on  those  who  jest  with 
her,  but  she  had  uttered  no  word  of  com- 
plaint. She  had  accepted  it  all,  and 
guarded  and  shielded  Bruce  in  his  tran- 
quil life  faithfully  as  she  had  promised. 
She  had  thought  of  others  almost  wholly 
through  all  that  time.  She  had  made  no 
effort  to  lighten  her  servitude,  snatch  any 
gain  or  pleasure  for  herself.  Not  a 
breath  of  scandal  had  touched  her.  All 
her  sisters  were  well  married  now.  Her 
father  and  mother  had  lived  contented 
132 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

and  undisturbed  in  their  little  Mayfair 
house. 

It  was  a  splendid  record  of  a  silent 
heroism,  the  annals  of  those  ten  blameless 
years.  Only  it  had  this  one  drawback, 
in  the  whole  time  she  had  not  enjoyed 
herself  one  single  bit.  Everybody  had 
been  pleased,  satisfied,  made  happy,  ex- 
cept herself.  Would  it  always  go  on  like 
that?  she  thought.  Was  a  person  bound 
to  give  up  their  whole  life  for  others?  she 
wondered.  If  so,  somebody  should  have 
been  giving  up  something  for  her,  it 
seemed.  She  got  all  tangled  up  in  her 
thoughts,  pondering  over  the  ethics  of 
altruism  until  at  last,  towards  the  morn- 
ing, tired  after  the  dance  and  her  mental 
struggles,  she  fell  asleep. 


133 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  next  day  and  the  next  and  the  next 
Flora  went  to  the  gallery  in  the  afternoon 
between  three  and  five.  Never  had  any 
January  seemed  so  fair  to  her  as  this, 
which  poured  its  warm  sunshine  through 
the  long  light  hours  into  the  south  wing. 

There  seemed  no  need  to  mention  it  to 
any  one — for  some  time  past  now  she  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  withdrawing  to  her 
room  to  lie  down  for  those  two  or  three 
hours  in  the  tedious,  lifeless  day,  and  now, 
if  she  turned  into  the  long  sun-filled  gal- 
lery instead,  did  it  matter  to  any  one? 
Had  she  been  asked  where  she  spent  her 
time,  had  she  been  met  going  to  or  com- 
ing from  the  gallery,  she  would  certainly 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

have  made  no  secret  of  it.  But  it  never 
came  up  in  conversation  where  those 
hours  were  spent,  and  no  one  knew.  To 
the  girl  herself  those  hours  rapidly  be- 
came her  life.  She  lived  just  for  that 
space  of  time  between  three  and  five. 
Wherein  the  magic  of  them  lay,  what 
irresistible  force  it  was  that  led  her  feet 
so  gaily  to  the  light-filled  southern  wing, 
she  could  not  tell.  Night  after  night  she 
lay  wondering,  pondering  over  it  in  her 
sleepless,  lonely  hours.  What  was  this 
extraordinary  leaping  joy  that  electrified 
every  fibre  of  her  being,  the  moment  she 
came  into  Rhys'  presence? 

It  was  something  like  that  joy  she  had 
known  before  her  wedding,  but  dimly  she 
felt  its  force  was  greater,  its  power  over 
her  more.  When  love  has  once  come 
into  a  woman's  life  and  been  repulsed,  the 
second  time  it  comes,  it  is  far  more  in- 
135 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

sistent,  and  each  time  it  returns  to  .her 
after  being  driven  away,  it  is  more  im- 
perative, more  implacable,  just  like  an 
enemy,  repulsed  by  the  invaded  country, 
who  goes  only  to  gather  fresh  forces,  new 
allies,  better  weapons,  and  then  returns  to 
the  raid. 

But  Flora  was  not  repulsing  it  now; 
joy  had  suddenly,  without  her  seeking  it 
in  any  way,  danced  up  to  her  with  laugh- 
ing eyes  and  hands  full  of  roses,  and  she 
had  on  the  instant  opened  her  arms  wide 
to  him,  caught  him  up,  and  held  him 
tightly  to  her.  She  wanted  him  so  much 
in  her  barren  life.  But  what  could  pos- 
sibly come  of  it?  she  asked  herself  often, 
and  never  found  any  answer.  She  only 
knew  that  she  must  go  to  the  gallery  at 
three,  and  while  there  a  feeling  of  per- 
fect content  enwrapped  her. 

She  recognised  that  she  was  imprisoned 
136 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

for  life.  She  saw  no  more  escape  from 
the  Towers  than  if  she  had  been  at 
Princetown.  She  had  heard  how  the 
convicts  often  spent  their  leisure,  petting 
and  playing  with  a  mouse  in  their  cell, 
and  it  occurred  to  her  sometimes  that  she 
was  like  one  of  them,  as  her  dancing  feet 
hurried  her  over  to  the  south  wing,  to 
snatch  a  few  hours'  play  from  her  hard 
labour.  Only  this  was  rather  a  danger- 
ous mouse.  Besides,  the  pet  mice  often 
wandered  away  from  the  accustomed  cell, 
leaving  their  convict  friends  desolate. 

One  day  the  gallery  would  be  empty. 
Rhys  Meredith  was  not  a  fixture  there 
like  the  stove.  One  day  he  would  cer- 
tainly go.  This  thought  used  to  come 
upon  her  in  the  night  sometimes,  when 
she  had  fallen  happily  asleep,  thinking 
"Three  o'clock  to-morrow,"  and  its  ter- 
ror and  horror  for  her  was  such  that  it 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

woke  her  instantly,  and  she  would  sit  up, 
cold  all  over,  her  hands  clutching  at  the 
satin  quilt 

But  mostly  she  refused  to  think  at  all. 
She  just  lived  and  enjoyed  her  two  hours 
every  day;  steeped  herself  in  that  wonder- 
ful feeling  of  happiness,  bathed  in  it, 
basked  in  it,  rejoiced  in  it,  just  as  a  man 
taken  from  a  tomb  would  bathe  and  bask 
and  rejoice  in  the  sunshine. 

So  far  Rhys  had  not  spoken  of  leaving 
Carlingford.  He  came  every  afternoon, 
and  with  wonderful  ingenuity  discovered 
always  some  new  view  or  light  in  the 
gallery  that  he  needed  to  photograph. 
Sometimes  it  was  dark  and  rainy,  and 
then  he  said  the  plates  needed  more  time, 
and  would  leave  the  lens  staring  open  the 
whole  two  hours  that  she  was  there.  He 
did  not  seem  able  to  produce  a  corre- 
sponding number  of  pictures  to  the  num- 
138 


THE     LIFE    SENTENCE 

ber  of  exposures  he  made,  but  then  there 
is  always  such  an  element  of  chance  in 
photography! 

No  word  of  love  had  been  spoken  be- 
tween them;  no  kiss  given,  except  that 
one  first  kiss  upon  her  hand.  But  that 
burnt  there  continually.  To  the  girl 
sometimes  it  seemed  as  if  she  must  see 
a  deep  wound  or  scar  on  the  glossy  white 
perfect  surface  of  the  back  of  her  hand,  so 
vividly  did  the  impression  remain  on  the 
nerves  of  that  moment's  burning  pressure. 

One  afternoon,  early  in  February, 
when  the  sky  was  unusually  soft  and  blue 
and  the  sun  quite  warm,  so  that  the  case- 
ments in  the  gallery  stood  open  and  the 
.voices  of  the  birds  filled  it,  she  went  a 
little  earlier  than  usual.  She  had  had  an 
extraordinarily  tiresome  morning — first 
the  housekeeper  to  be  interviewed  and 
piles  of  accounts  to  be  looked  over  and 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

approved ;  then  the  dressmaker,  who  kept 
her  standing  for  an  hour  while  the  folds 
of  her  Court  dress  were  stitched  into 
position  on  her  figure;  then  came  Bruce 
himself  with  a  long  list  of  people  he 
wished  asked  to  dinner.  She  had  a  lesson 
from  him  on  the  subject  of  precedence 
in  which  he  took  a  great  interest  and  she 
detested,  because  it  seemed  such  a  use- 
less thing  for  human  minds  to  pore  over 
by  the  hour.  She  never  could  see  how  it 
mattered  which  old  duke  or  count  went 
in  before  the  other.  "I  would  like  just 
to  say  'go'  and  see  them  all  trot  in  to- 
gether," she  would  say;  and  Bruce  would 
look  horrified,  and  beg  her  to  be  serious 
on  these  really  important  things  of  life. 

To-day  luncheon  had  been  delayed  half 

an  hour  while  they  hunted  through  the 

library  to  find  a  mislaid  Peerage,  because 

Bruce  had  forgotten  the  date  of  the  crea- 

140 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

tion  of  some  one's  title;  as  for  herself,  her 
mind  was  a  blank  in  such  matters ;  try  as 
she  would,  she  could  not  fix  these  things 
in  her  memory.  In  consequence,  after 
luncheon,  she  had  had  barely  time  to  go 
to  her  room  and  change  her  dress  and  just 
retouch  her  hair  and  make  herself  look 
generally  lovely  for  him,  for  him!  So, 
fancying  she  would  be  late,  she  had  ended 
by  being  early,  and,  flushed  and  radiant, 
she  stepped  into  the  gallery  before  the 
clock  struck  three.  Housekeepers,  dress- 
makers, Court  trains,  books  of  prece- 
dence, all  these  "really  important  things" 
were  forgotten.  For  two  clear  hours 
she  was  going  to  be  petted  and  amused, 
told  she  looked  lovely,  and  be  allowed  to 
gaze  on  the  face  she  loved. 

She  had  put  on  quite  a  spring  toilette 
to    match    the    wonderful    day — a    pale 
primrose  lawn  with  gold  embroidery  at 
141 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

the  neck  and  waist;  and  this  unusual  tint, 
together  with  the  rather  different  yellow 
of  her  hair,  her  topaz  necklet  and  her 
blue  eyes,  made  a  study  that  would  have 
delighted  any  artist.  Rhys  sprang  to  his 
feet  as  she  came  in  with  one  of  those 
quick,  elastic,  energetic  movements  natu- 
ral to  him,  which  came  from  the  perfect 
health  and  condition  of  every  muscle  in 
his  body. 

"How  sweet  you  look!  Are  you  the 
Spring  Incarnate?  That's  what  you  look 
like." 

"If  I  look  well,  it  is  because  I  am  so 
happy  coming  to  see  you.  You  always 
amuse  me  so  much,  talking  about  travel 
and  life  and  things  I  like.  For  five  solid 
hours  I  have  been  worried  with  bills, 
court  gowns,  and  how  dukes  and  bishops 
should  dine.  I've  been  dying  to  get  away 
to  you  all  the  time." 
142 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

"Ah,  you  should  have  married  me  in- 
stead of  Bruce!" 

It  was  just  an  exclamation,  apparently 
an  involuntary  one,  but  there  was  such 
bitterness,  such  intensity,  in  it  that  it  must 
arrest  its  hearer. 

The  girl  flushed  a  beautiful  crimson 
red;  across  the  sunlight  they  both  stood, 
looking  at  each  other. 

How  very  handsome  he  was!  she 
thought,  wonderful  with  that  air  of  great 
strength  about  him,  that  perfect  health  of 
the  smooth  skin,  the  red  colour  of  the  lips, 
the  fire  and  passion  of  those  great  grey 
eyes. 

Equally  involuntarily  she  uttered  her 
thought  aloud. 

"I  should  have  liked  to  have  married 
you!" 

Rhys  made  a  step  forward,  and  took 
her  into  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  To 
143 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

his  ideas,  any  man  would  have  been  a 
fool  and  worse  who  had  not  done  so  after 
such  a  speech  from  a  woman.  But,  to  his 
surprise,  she  did  not  yield  to  the  kiss  as 
he  had  thought  she  would.  She  strug- 
gled to  get  away  from  him.  He  released 
her  when  he  was  convinced  that  she 
wished  it. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Flora?  Are  you 
angry  with  me?"  he  asked,  surprised. 
He  forgot  that  the  kiss  was  too  violent  to 
please  one  so  unaccustomed  to  caresses. 
Or,  rather,  if  the  recipient  were  pleased, 
the  mental  and  physical  shock  would  be 
so  great  as  to  leave  her  uncertain  if  she 
were  pleased  or  not.  Flora  shook  her 
head. 

"No,  I  am  not  angry." 

"Did  I  hurt  you?" 

"A  little." 

"But  that  was  your  own  fault.    You 
144 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

struggled  so  to  get  away,  otherwise  I 
should  not  have  hurt  you." 

"Yes,  it  was  all  my  fault."  She  turned 
away  and  looked  into  the  sunny  grounds. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Then  the 
man  said  abruptly — 

"I  think  I  had  better  leave  Carling- 
ford.  Do  you  know  how  long  I've  been 
here?" 

Flora  shook  her  head. 

"Three  weeks.     I  only  came  for  one." 

Leave  Carlingford!  How  desolate 
those  words  made  her  feel!  Oh,  what 
should  she  do  with  herself!  She  felt  so 
young,  so  strong,  so  full  of  life,  for  three 
weeks  she  had  been  so  happy.  Must  she 
give  it  all  up  and  let  this  man  go  and  she 
keep  back  her  longing  feet  from  going 
too?  Somewhere,  anywhere,  out  into  the 
open.  Must  she  creep  back  into  that 
tomb-like  apathy  of  the  past  ten  years? 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

Now  she  was  once  awake  and  thrilling  all 
through  with  life,  could  she  do  it  again 
if  she  tried? 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  you  to  go!"  she  said 
at  last,  in  a  sort  of  agony. 

"But  what  will  happen  if  I  stay?  I 
don't  think  it  is  wise  to  go  on  photograph- 
ing this  gallery." 

"Wise?  No,  perhaps  not;  but  oh!  do 
stay,  do  stay,  Rhys;  I  can't  bear  you  to 

go." 

"What  will  you  do  for  me  if  I  stay?" 
he  said,  coming  close  up  to  her.  "Will 
you  let  me  kiss  you  as  much  as  I  like? 
You  know  very  well  that's  what  I  want 
to  do.  No,  I  thought  not  .  .  .  ,"  he  said 
ironically,  as  Flora  drew  back  against  the 
shutter,  a  look  of  terror  written  on  her 
face.  "Then  what  is  the  use  of  it?  You 
had  better  let  me  go !" 

"I  feel  as  if  I  should  die  if  you  go 
146 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

away  now,"  she  said  in  a  very  low  tone. 

"Will  you  come  with  me?" 

The  query  was  abrupt,  the  voice  rather 
strained  and  harsh  as  he  made  it,  and  yet 
to  Flora  it  seemed  suddenly,  as  he  spoke, 
that  the  whole  gallery  was  full  of  music 
and  sweet  sounds,  red  and  gold  lights 
leapt  into  the  glory  of  the  sunshine,  the 
world  stretched  before  her,  the  prospect 
seemed  divinely  fair. 

"Go  with  him?"  Yes,  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth,  to  any  fate,  through  any  ills. 
If  she  had  her  hand  in  his,  his  magic 
presence  beside  her,  would  anything  mat- 
ter? That  great  joy,  the  mere  sight  of 
him  gave  her,  would  be  in  it  and  through 
it  all.  Had  she  stood  alone  in  the  world 
she  would  have  said  "Yes"  with  the  keen- 
est delight,  even  if  it  had  been  through 
the  gates  of  Hell  that  he  had  proposed 
taking  her,  but  the  thought  of  others  came 
147 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

before  her.  Ah!  those  terrible  others  in 
life,  what  a  burden  they  are! 

"Oh,  Rhys,  why  do  you  ask  me? 
What  can  I  say?" 

He  put  his  hands  round  her  and  kissed 
her  again,  not  caring  this  time,  appar- 
ently, whether  she  wished  it  or  not,  re- 
sisted or  yielded. 

"You  can  say  'Yes'  if  you  love  me  and 
want  to  come,"  he  said;  "otherwise  tell 
me  you  wish  me  to  leave  you,  and  I  will 
do  that." 

"I  want  to  come  with  you  so  much, 
Rhys,  you  know  I  do." 

She  had  her  arms  round  his  neck  now, 
her  lips  pressed  against  it.  Her  will 
power  was  being  gradually  reduced  by 
his  caresses. 

Asked  once  how  it  was  that  he  was 
so  successful  with  women,  how  he  gener- 
148 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

ally  made  them  do  all  he  wanted,  often 
against  their  will,  principles,  and  inter- 
ests, Meredith  had  made  this  reply: 
"There  is  no  need  to  be  cruel  to  women. 
You  can  always  kiss  them  into  subjec- 
tion." He  uttered  an  absolute  truth,  and 
the  reason  why  husbands  so  often  find 
their  wives  perfectly  intractable  is  be- 
cause they  so  seldom  try  this  simple  and 
effective  method  of  coercion. 

"Come,  then,  darling.  Are  you  afraid 
to?  Do  you  think  I  should  leave  you 
afterwards,  desert  you?" 

"I  am  not  afraid,  and  I  am  not  think- 
ing of  myself.  Whatever  you  did  in  the 
future,  however  unhappy  I  was,  the  joy 
of  being  with  you  now  would  compensate 
me.  I  am  thinking  of  Bruce." 

"But,  after  all,  why  should  you  con- 
sider him  more  than  me?  You  have 
149 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

made  me  want  you  now  immensely,  infi- 
nitely, far  more,  I  should  say,  than  Bruce 
does." 

"Perhaps,  but — but — if  my  going  were 
a  shock  to  him — if  it  upset  him,  made 
him  ill?  You  know  how  delicate  he  is." 

"He  looks  the  picture  of  health." 

"Yes,  doesn't  he?"  answered  Flora,  ea- 
gerly. "He  is  well  now,  but  that  is  only 
because  I  have  kept  his  life  perfectly 
tranquil.  I  never  allow  anything  to 
worry  him,  or  anybody  to  annoy  or  con- 
tradict him.  Everything  is  made  to  give 
way  to  him." 

"What  a  good  little  wife  you  have  been 
to  him!" 

"I  am  not  really  his  wife,  you  know," 
she  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

"Flora,  what  do  you  mean?  You 
were  married." 

"Oh,  yes,  terribly  married,  as  far  as 
150 


ceremonies  go,  but  I  have  never  lived 
with  Bruce,  never  at  any  time,  never, 


never." 


Meredith  held  her  very  close  to  him. 

"My  sweet,  then " 

"Yes,  Rhys,"  she  said,  looking  up  and 
meeting  his  eyes  now,  "it  is  quite  true. 
I  was  married  at  sixteen,  and  I  have  just 
lived  here  in  this  great  place  as  any  other 
girl  might.  And  what  is  more,  of  all  the 
men  I  have  seen  I  have  never  cared  for 
any  one  at  all,  never  been  moved  by  them 
in  the  least  bit.  Do  you  believe  me?" 

"Of  course  I  believe  you." 

She  was  making  it  harder  every  mo- 
ment for  him  to  leave  her,  if  that  was  go- 
ing to  be  her  ultimate  decision.  Did  she 
know  that?  he  wondered.  But  he  would 
not  leave  her  now.  No,  somehow  or 
other  she  should  come  with  him.  The 
white-rose  fragrance  of  her  hair,  the  ar- 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

dour  in  the  soft,  passionate  eyes,  the  com- 
plete love  for  himself  that  he  read  there, 
took  away  from  him  sense  of  everything 
except  that  he  must  take  her. 

"It  seems  to  me  you  don't  belong  to 
Bruce  at  all.  He  has  no  right  to  keep 
you  here.  You  say  I  have  given  you  so 
much  happiness?" 

"So  you  have.  Other  men  have  cared 
for  me  and  wanted  to  please  me,  but  they 
have  not  had  the  power.  I  liked  feeling 
that  my  presence  made  them  happy;  that 
was  nice,  of  course,  but  they  could  not 
give  me  anything  in  return,  they  could 
not  make  me  happy,  but  you  do  each  time 
I  see  you,  and  I  am  very  grateful  to  you." 

"Come  and  belong  to  me,  then." 

"Oh,  Rhys,  why  did  I  not  meet  with 
you  at  sixteen,  before  I  was  married,  ten 
years  ago !" 

152 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

"Ten  years  ago?"  and  his  face  dark- 
ened. "I  don't  know  if  I  should  have 
dared  to  take  you  then,"  he  muttered 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  well,  never  mind,  don't  let  us 
think  of  the  past.  We  can't  help  it. 
We  have  still  the  future.  Say  we  shall 
spend  it  together?" 

"I  cannot,  Rhys;  no,  I  can't.  I  don't 
know  what  to  do.  I  must  think.  Let  me 
go  now.  Bruce  said  he  specially  wanted 
me  to  appear  at  tea,  so  I  can't  stay  with 
you  this  afternoon." 

"Flora,  I  can't  go  on  like  this,  it's  too 
miserable.  Just  while  I  am  here  it's  all 
right,  but  I  do  suffer  so  when  I  have  to 
leave  you.  Come  and  see  me  again  this 
evening  after  dinner,  if  you  must  go  now, 
and  bring  me  your  decision.  I  will  go 
back  to  the  inn  and  get  dinner.  Then 
i53 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

I  will  come  and  wait  here  for  you  at  nine 
o'clock.  Come  any  time  you  can,  when 
you  are  free.  I  will  wait." 

"Oh,  Rhys,  they  close  the  Towers  door 
at  ten.  How  would  you  get  out? 
Won't  to-morrow  afternoon  as  usual  do?" 

"No,  I  can't  spend  another  night  in  un- 
certainty. You  must  tell  me  to-night. 
If  you  say  'No'  I  shall  leave  Carlingford 
by  the  twelve  express  and  go  up  to  town, 
and  get  off  to  India  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Flora  whitened  to  the  lips.  "You  are 
cruel,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

"No,  I  am  not.  It  is  utterly  useless  to 
go  on  like  this.  I  don't  want  to  force 
you,  Flora.  If  you  think  it  best  for  you 
to  try  and  forget  all  about  me,  let  me  go 
alone.  I  don't  want  to  disturb  your  life 
or  to  take  you  away  against  your  will, 
especially  as  the  life  with  me  would  be 
infinitely  poorer.  You  give  up  your  po- 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

sition,  you  sacrifice  everything.  You 
might  regret  it." 

He  had  dropped  his  arms  now,  and 
stood  leaning  against  the  wall  looking  at 
her.  She  gazed  back  at  him,  enchained, 
fascinated,  thinking  how  perfect  the  fig- 
ure, how  beautiful  the  face,  how  easy 
every  attitude!  Could  she  part  with 
him?  In  her  distress  she  seized  the 
woman's  invariable  weapon — delay. 
Not  now,  but  some  other  time,  to  make 
the  decision!  If  it  were  only  an  hour  or 
two,  it  was  delay. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  she  said 
hurriedly;  "but  I  will  come  here  this 
evening,  some  time,  I  can't  promise  when, 
if  you  will  wait." 

"I  have  said  I  will  wait." 

"But  how  can  you  leave  after?  It  is 
difficult  to  open  the  big  door." 

"I  can  swing  myself  down  by  the  ivy 
155 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

from  this  window.  Do  not  trouble  about 
me.  Think  about  yourself,  and  what  you 
will  say  when  you  come." 

He  came  over  and  kissed  her  again. 
He  was  not  sure  that  she  was  subdued 
yet  She  clung  to  him  for  a  moment, 
then  tore  herself  away. 

"I  must  go.  I  am  so  afraid  Bruce  may 
be  waiting.  Good-bye  till  the  evening." 

"Good-bye,  dearest!" 


156 


CHAPTER  V 

FROM  the  gallery  the  girl  ran  with  flying 
feet  through  the  passages  and  corridors 
of  the  south  wing  straight  to  the  tea-room 
that  overlooked  the  west  court,  sobering 
her  pace  as  she  neared  her  destination. 
She  wanted  to  be  away  somewhere  alone 
in  the  quiet  to  think,  to  recover  from  the 
shock  of  those  kisses  and  those  burning 
words,  but  her  watch  told  her  she  was  ten 
minutes  late  already  for  the  hour  when 
Bruce  had  wished  her  to  be  present,  so  it 
was  impossible  to  escape. 

When  she  entered  the  room  was  full  of 
people,  but  she  saw  they  were  just  the 
county  set  who  on  fine  days  drove  over  to 
tea  at  the  Towers.  Some  expected  guests 
had  not  arrived.  Bruce  was  vexed  that 
157 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

she  was  late,  and  handed  her  a  telegram 
in  silence. 

She  took  it,  and  with  uncertain  vision 
read  the  lines,  to  the  effect  that,  owing  to 
sudden  illness  in  the  family,  the  visit 
must  be  postponed.  She  was  glad.  If 
she  were  to  go,  better  that  the  Towers 
should  not  be  full  of  visitors.  But  could 
she  go?  Surely  not.  Such  a  thing  only 
seemed  possible  when  Rhys  held  her  in 
his  arms. 

In  the  same  dreamlike  condition  she 
slipped  into  her  place  at  the  tea-table — 
the  little  tea-table  over  which  she  had 
presided  for  ten  years.  Bruce  was  put 
out  now  because  she  was  ten  minutes  late, 
but  what  would  it  be  when  she  was  never 
there  any  more  at  all?  But  then,  he 
could  so  easily  replace  her!  Get  some 
one  else,  ornamental  and  good-tempered, 
to  sit  in  her  place.  She  did  not  want  to 
158 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

go  on  for  ever  with  this  aimless  presiding 
over  tea  and  dinner  tables. 

Rhys  wanted  her  for  other  things,  that 
was  the  hold  he  had  over  her.  She 
slipped  away  as  soon  as  she  could  after 
tea.  She  had  listened  patiently  to  the 
dean's  wife  while  she  unfolded  her 
scheme  for  a  new  flannel  club  for  the  vil- 
lage; she  had  turned  a  sympathetic  ear  to 
an  old  duchess  who  took  her  through  all 
the  details  of  her  last  indisposition;  she 
had  listened  with  interest  to  the  son  of 
the  same  lady  while  he  enthused  over 
cricket;  and  then  Bruce  took  them  all 
into  the  garden,  and  she  was  free  to  rush 
up  to  her  room,  lock  herself  in,  and  think 
wildly  over  those  kisses  and  her  coming 
fate. 

If  she  let  Rhys  go,  she  felt  her  destiny 
was  settled;  she  would  live  and  die  at  the 
Towers.  If  not  for  him,  certainly  for  no 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

other  would  she  leave  her  post.  This 
man  stood  out  alone  against  the  many  she 
had  seen.  She  had  no  idea  what  his  ma- 
terial position  might  be,  what  sort  of 
privations  she  might  be  called  upon  to 
suffer  with  him,  but  she  felt,  she  saw,  he 
was  the  one  man  out  of  all  others  she 
would  have  chosen  to  satisfy  her  heart. 
He  had  the  same  ardent  nature,  the  same 
desire  to  enjoy  life  to  the  full,  the  same 
wide  intellect  as  her  own. 

She  felt  her  first  girlish  love  for  Bruce 
was  as  nothing  to  what  her  love  for  this 
man,  now  she  was  again  r.wake,  would 
become.  After  an  hour  she  had  to  dress 
for  dinner,  and  that  hour  )f  anguished 
struggle  went  by  like  a  few  moments,  so 
absorbed  was  she  in  painful,  excited 
thought.  When  she  went  down  to  dinner 
it  was  to  dine  with  Bruce  alone,  and  as 
it  happened  Fate  made  him  harden  the 
160 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

girl's  heart  against  him.  He  talked  on 
the  subjects  that  had  annoyed  him  at 
luncheon,  her  ignorance  of  and  inatten- 
tion to  the  rules  of  precedence;  advised 
her  to  get  the  book  upon  it  and  study  it 
several  hours  every  day,  and  to  write  out 
tables  of  imaginary  dinner-parties,  and 
study  out  how  to  send  the  guests  in,  that 
she  might  be  less  trouble  to  him,  and 
wound  up  by  remarking  that  if  she  could 
not  do  better  than  she  generally  did,  in 
the  future,  he  had  better  get  his  sister  to 
come  down  and  stay  there,  and  let  her  ar- 
range the  dinner-parties. 

This  to  Flora,  with  Meredith  waiting 
to  take  her  in  his  arms  in  the  gallery! 
She  glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was  9.15. 
According  to  her  custom  she  heard  all 
Bruce  had  to  say  in  silence,  sitting  with 
downcast  eyes  in  her  place,  making  no  re- 
mark and  offering  no  contradiction. 
161 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

When  he  ceased  she  merely  murmured  she 
was  sorry.  But  that  conversation  decided 
her.  She  was  not  suited  to  this  position. 
He  had  practically  told  her  so  to-night, 
and  she  quite  agreed.  She  was  far  more 
suited  to  be  kissed  by  Meredith  and  to 
share  his  travels  than  to  preside  over 
Carlingford  dinner-tables.  If  Bruce 
wished  his  sister  to  take  her  place  she  was 
ready  to  surrender  it,  and  for  ever. 

At  9.30,  when  they  had  sat  in  silence 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  she  rose  and 
gently  said  good  night.  Then  she  went 
upstairs  as  if  to  her  own  room,  but  instead 
of  entering  it  she  turned  aside,  descended 
another  staircase,  and  then  ran  over  to  the 
south  wing.  There  was  a  bright  moon 
high  in  the  sky,  and  the  silver  light  fell 
in  patches  into  the  corridors,  showing  her 
the  way. 

162 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Bruce  felt  a  little  sorry  and  disturbed 
after  she  had  left  him.  He  had  not 
meant  to  be  unkind,  but  perhaps  he  had 
seemed  so.  In  point  of  fact,  it  was  not 
very  easy  for  him  to  be  always  as  good 
and  kind  to  her  as  he  felt  she  deserved. 
This  was  not  because  his  real  affection 
for  her  was  less,  but  the  soul  of  love  be- 
tween man  and  woman  is  passion,  and 
when  for  any  reason  the  passion  is  not 
there,  the  love  and  the  evidences  of  love 
decline. 

When  Flora  entered  the  gallery  it  was 
full  from  end  to  end  of  silver  light,  and 
she  saw  Meredith  pacing  restlessly  up 
and  down  waiting  for  her. 

As  she  came  in  with  her  light  flying 
steps,  he  went  forward  to  meet  her. 

"My  darling,  have  you  decided?" 

"Yes,  Rhys,"  she  whispered  excitedly, 
163 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

"I  will  come  if  you  wish  it,  but  I  must 
tell  him  first." 

"Tell  whom  what?" 

"I  must  tell  Bruce  I  want  to  go  away 
and  ask  his  consent;  then,  if  he  gives  it, 
I  will  come." 

Meredith  looked  amazed.  In  the 
clear  moonlight  she  could  see  the  varying 
expressions  of  his  face  distinctly. 

"But  that  settles  it.  Of  course,  he  will 
not  let  you  go." 

"Leave  it  to  me,  Rhys.  I  think  he 
will.  He  does  not  now  fully  realise  how 
wretched  I  have  been  all  this  time,  but 
I  will  tell  him  to-night." 

Meredith  took  her  into  his  arms  and 
kissed  her. 

"These  are  my  last  kisses.  If  you  tell 
him  you  will  never  come  to  me.  You 
will  remain  here  at  the  Towers,  and  I 
164 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

shall  go  out  to  India  and  live  and  die 
there." 

"You  will  not.  I  am  coming  with 
you." 

"But  why  not  come  and  leave  a  note  for 
him?" 

"I  could  not  do  that.  The  shock 
would  be  too  great.  But  if  I  explain 
everything  very  carefully  and  gradually 
and  quietly,  I  think  it  will  be  all  right. 
Fancy!  only  this  evening  he  was  wishing 
his  sister  to  come  down,  and  saying  I  was 
not  fitted  to  my  position!  Was  it  not 
funny?  And  I  want  to  ask  him  to  di- 
vorce me  as  soon  as  he  can.  Then  we  can 
marry.  You  would  like  that,  wouldn't 
you?" 

Over  the  face  above  hers  she  saw  a 
look  of  pain,  of  distress,  of  some  perplex- 
ity pass.  She  could  not  quite  interpret 
165 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

it,  but  she  saw  plainly  the  idea  was  not 
pleasing  to  him. 

"You  don't  wish  it?" 

"My  darling,  of  course  I  wish  it!  I 
would  marry  you  this  moment  if  I  could." 

The  tones  were  so  warm,  the  expression 
so  sweet  as  he  smiled  down  upon  her, 
that  she  was  satisfied. 

Her  mind  now  was  in  such  a  driving, 
seething  whirlpool  of  emotion  that  any 
one  thought  or  idea  was  soon  lost  in  it, 
like  a  stone  thrown  into  an  eddying  cur- 
rent. There  was  so  much  to  think  of,  so 
much  to  decide,  the  feeling  of  pain  under 
his  passing  frown  was  soon  lost. 

They  talked  for  a  few  moments  to- 
gether, but  Flora  was  quite  firm  on  the 
point.  Only  on  the  condition  that  she 
told  Bruce,  and  he  consented,  would  she 
come.  Rhys  rarely  argued  with  women 
166 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

or  sought  to  deter  them  once  he  saw  their 
minds  were  fixed  on  some  abstract  prin- 
ciple. 

"Well,  I  have  told  you  what  I  think — 
that  you  will  not  be  able  to  come,"  he 
said  at  last,  "unless  you  can  get  away  se- 
cretly. If  you  can,  go  to-night  to  the  sta- 
tion here  and  take  the  twelve  express  to 
town.  I  was  going  to  take  that,  but  now 
I  shall  go  by  an  earlier  train." 

"Can't  we  go  together?"  she  inter- 
rupted him.  That  was  what  she  wished 
— only  that,  to  remain  with  him. 

"No,  not  from  Carlingford.  Never 
mind,  my  darling,  don't  ask  me.  I  have 
my  own  reasons  for  not  wishing  to  travel 
from  here  in  the  same  train  with  you. 
When  you  reach  town  go  to  this  hotel.  I 
have  written  down  this  address  for  you  on 
this  card.  Wait  for  me  there.  I  will 
167 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

join  you  to-morrow  at  five.  Then  we  can 
take  the  train  from  there  to  Dover  to- 
gether. Will  you  do  that?" 

She  was  in  his  arms,  his  lips  on  hers 
as  he  ended.  She  could  say,  do,  think, 
nothing  but  what  he  wished. 

"Then,  my  sweet,  I  had  better  go  now. 
I  shall  only  just  have  time  to  catch  the 
earlier  train,  and  you  will  have  all  you 
can  do  between  this  and  twelve.  Good 
night,  my  own!  Our  last  good  night, 
I  trust!  To-morrow  night — ah!  Flora, 
do  you  think  of  to-morrow  night?" 

They  were  both  so  absorbed  in  each 
other  in  the  intense  happiness  of  that  last 
kiss  that  they  neither  of  them  heard  the 
door  in  the  side  of  the  gallery  open,  nor 
see  the  tapestry  sway  in  the  moonlight, 
just  as  it  had  moved  over  her  head  when 
she  had  entered  the  gallery  to  find  Rhys 
Meredith  first,  that  January  afternoon. 
168 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

The  figure  that  entered  came  on  down 
the  gallery  in  the  white  light,  but  neither 
saw  it.  Her  arms  were  round  Rhys' 
neck,  his  head  bent  down,  the  eyes  of  both 
were  closed  as  the  tide  of  their  passion 
swept  over  and  submerged  them. 

"Good  night,  dear  darling!"  she  said, 
very  softly,  at  last  drawing  away  from 
him.  "Go  now,  and  come  to  me  to-mor- 
row at  five.  I  will  be  there,  or  if  I  find 
it  impossible  I  will  send  a  message 
there." 

"It  will  not  be  impossible,"  the  man  an- 
swered, a  deep,  vibrating  note  in  his 
voice;  "remember  you  are  to  come. 
Good  night." 

The  high,  narrow  casement  stood  wide 
open  beside  them.  He  turned  to  it,  and 
put  one  hand  on  the  sill,  and  vaulted  over 
into  space,  catching  in  his  free  hand  the 
great  tough  bough  of  ivy  that  spread  all 
169 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

over  the  south  wall  and  made  a  perfect 
ladder  to  the  ground. 

The  girl  leant  out,  supporting  herself 
on  the  sill  with  both  hands,  and  looking 
anxiously  after  the  slim,  panther-like  fig- 
ure that  slipped  dextrously  to  the  ground 
through  the  thick  green  of  the  ivy. 

The  moonlight  fell  on  her  bent  head, 
making  the  colour  of  her  hair  exquisitely 
soft  and  pale  in  its  silver  rays.  She 
paused  for  a  moment  after  all  sound  had 
ceased  from  below,  gazing  out  on  the 
tranquil  scene.  Then  she  drew  back, 
shut  and  fastened  the  casement,  and 
turned.  She  was  face  to  face  with  her 
husband  in  the  cold  brilliance  of  the  gal- 
lery. 

"Bruce!"  she  exclaimed,  and  her  voice 
rang  with  fear,  but  it  was  not  fear  for  her- 
self nor  of  what  his  anger  might  mean 
170 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

for  her.  All  her  thought  was,  from 
long  habit,  for  him.  "Bruce,  I  never 
meant  to  deceive  you  about  this.  I  was 
coming  this  very  evening,  now  as  soon  as 
he  had  gone,  to  tell  you." 

"What  were  you  going  to  tell?" 
The  man's  face  looked  very  pale,  it 
seemed  strangely  impassive,  too,  mask- 
like;  his  voice  was  toneless.  The  girl 
clasped  her  hands  against  her  breast  as 
she  stood  there  before  him.  She  had 
meant  to  tell  him  so  gently,  so  guardedly, 
and  now  he  had  seen  it  all  and  heard  it  in 
such  a  cruel  way.  What  anguish  after 
those  years  of  care  for  him  that  Fate 
should  have  made  her  wound  him  like 
thisl  It  was  not  fair. 

"To  tell  you,  explain  to.  you  every- 
thing, ask  you  if  you  would  let  me  go 
now.     I  have  lived  here  at  the  Towers 
ten  years.     I  was  going  to  ask  you  to  let 
171 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

me  leave  them  now,  to  go  away  right  into 
the  world,  to  know  what  life  was  while  I 
was  still  young  and  could  enjoy  it." 

The  man  was  silent.  "And  what  did 
you  think  I  should  say?"  he  asked,  after  a 
moment. 

"I  thought  you  would  let  me  go.  Oh, 
Bruce,  Bruce!"  she  continued,  passion- 
ately, falling  on  her  knees  and  seizing 
both  his  hands,  "you  know  how  it  has  all 
been !  You  know  how  I  loved  you  at  the 
beginning,  how  I  wanted  you,  and  then 
all  that  love  had  to  be  destroyed!  Yes," 
she  repeated,  more  vehemently  still,  as  he 
made  a  negative  gesture,  "had  to  be  de- 
stroyed, or  it  would  have  killed  me. 
Poor,  beautiful  creature,  how  it  struggled 
on  to  live,  but  I  had  to  kill  it!  It  was 
beaten  down,  hidden,  repressed,  starved, 
kept  out  of  sight.  For  years  it  went  on, 
that  awful  struggle,  it  lived  with  me  just 
172 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

like  a  living  thing,  but  at  last  also,  like  a 
living  thing  that  one  starves  and  keeps 
from  its  exercise  and  from  the  light,  it 
died,  and  I  was  left  alone." 

She  paused.  His  hands  in  hers  quiv- 
ered and  grew  colder  under  her  burning 
fingers. 

"For  years  it  was  agony,  torture.  Oh, 
Bruce,  those  sleepless  nights  of  the  first 
year!  Shall  I  ever  forget  them?  You 
never  knew,  you  never  guessed  what  I 
suffered.  I  did  not  dare  to  say  one  word 
to  you  or  to  any  one.  I  had  to  let  you 
think  I  was  content.  The  years  went  by, 
those  miserable,  tortured  years,  then  at 
last  I  had  succeeded,  that  kind  of  love  for 
you  died.  I  had  murdered  it  at  last,  and 
then  with  my  murdered  love  I  crept  into 
my  grave.  I  felt  nothing.  I  was  dead 
and  cold.  All  the  pain  and  agony  had 
ceased,  but  life  had  ceased  too.  I  was 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

just  a  mechanical  body,  supporting  its 
existence.  But  it  could  not  have  gone  on 
much  longer.  You  would  have  lost  me 
just  the  same,  Bruce,  only  you  would  have 
buried  me  at  the  Towers  instead  of  let- 
ting me  go  out  of  them  alive.  Well, 
then,  quite  by  chance  I  met  this  man. 
Somehow,  for  no  special  reason,  why  I 
cannot  say,  he  had  the  power  to  call  me 
out  of  that  grave  I  was  in.  It  has  only 
been  a  month  that  I  have  known  him,  but 
for  that  month  I  have  been  in  Heaven, 
the  same  Heaven  that  I  was  in  ten  years 
ago  when  I  loved  you." 
"He  has  taken  away  your  love  for  me?" 
"No,  Bruce,  no;  you  know  that  is  not 
true.  You  did  not  want  my  love.  You 
told  me  so.  You  wanted  the  gentle  af- 
fection of  a  daughter,  the  care  and  sym- 
pathy of  a  friend.  That  you  have  had. 
All  these  ten  years  my  one  consolation  has 
174 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

been  that  you  seemed  well,  you  were  con- 
tent, you  had  all  you  wished.  I  did  make 
you  happy,  did  I  not?" 

"Very  happy." 

"Well,  now  forgive  me  and  let  me  go. 
I  have  sacrificed  all  the  best  of  my  life 
for  you,  my  time  is  passing,  all  I  have 
suffered  for  you  has  spoiled  my  beauty, 
which  is  the  only  real  capital  a  woman 
has.  Do  you  know  that,  though  I  am 
only  twenty-six,  there  is  grey  in  my  hair? 
For  you,  for  your  sake,  I  have  been  only 
a  daughter  to  you  all  this  time,  not  a  wife. 
Well,  now,  think  of  me  as  your  daughter, 
not  your  wife." 

"What  is  this  man?  Can  he  make  you 
happy?" 

Bruce's  voice  was  uneven.  Suddenly 
he  turned,  freed  his  hands  from  hers,  and 
sank  into  the  little  chair  Rhys  had  put  for 
her  that  first  day  by  the  stove. 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

"Are  you  feeling  ill?  Oh,  don't  say  I 
have  made  you  ill!" 

"No,  no,  I  am  all  right.  Go  on,  tell 
me.  Is  this  for  your  happiness?  Are 
you  sure  that  it  is?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  only  feel  that  I  must 
go  to  him  or  die.  It  is  for  you  to  say 
which  it  shall  be.  He  has  nothing  that  I 
know  of,  or  very  little.  He  makes  money 
enough  to  live  on.  I  give  up  everything, 
of  course,  if  I  go  to  him,  but  I  love  him 
and  he  loves  me,  so  I  get  in  exchange 
what  I  have  always  wanted  more  than 
anything  else  in  the  world." 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"Rhys  Meredith." 

"Rhys  Meredith!  The  man  to  whom 
I  gave  permission  to  sketch  the  Towers?" 

"Yes." 

"He  jested  about  stealing  the  gold 
176 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

plate ;  he  has  not  done  that,  he  has  stolen 
you." 

"No,  you  must  not  say  that.  You  must 
not  be  angry  with  him.  You  would  have 
lost  me  anyway.  My  love  was  dead,  and 
my  body  was  dragging  on  a  little  longer, 
then  that  would  have  died  too." 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  him? 
Is  it  likely  to  be  a  success  if  you  do  do 
this?" 

"What  I  do  know  points  to  difficulty 
of  all  sorts.  His  nature,  his  tempera- 
ment is  inconstant,  I  should  think,  unre- 
liable, there  is  very  little  money  and 
every  one  will  be  against  us,  but,  perhaps, 
because  all  is  so  unsatisfactory  we  may  be 
happy.  Happiness  is  such  a  wild,  elu- 
sive spirit;  she  is  a  gipsy;  she  does  not  like 
apparently  living  under  established  laws. 
Look,  when  I  was  engaged  to  you,  every 
177 


one  kept  telling  me  the  conditions  were  so 
perfect,  there  was  everything  to  insure 
our  happiness,  and  see  what  it  has  been." 

"It  is  very  hard  to  give  you  up,"  Bruce 
murmured,  in  those  dear,  soft  tones  she 
had  trained  her  ears  for  years  not  to  hear, 
against  the  magic  of  which  she  had  in 
agony  steeled  her  heart.  "But  if  I  could 
be  sure  it  would  be  for  your  ultimate  hap- 
piness I  would  do  it." 

Sitting  beside  his  feet  on  the  floor  with 
his  hand  held  against  her  cheek,  she 
turned  and  kissed  it,  and  a  flood  of  warm 
tears  poured  over  it. 

"Bruce,  will  it  make  you  very  un- 
happy? Will  it  make  you  ill  if  I  go? 
If  so  I  must  stay.  I  cannot  undo  all  I 
have  done." 

"No,  I  hope  not.  I  cannot  tell.  In 
any  case  you  are  entitled  to  your  life.  I 
178 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

have  had  mine.  I  could  not  keep  you 
against  your  will." 

"But  the  scandal  and  the  talk,  will  you 
mind  very  much?" 

"I  shall  mind,  but  it  cannot  be  helped. 
I  will  set  you  free  as  soon  as  I  can,  di- 
vorce you.  Then  the  man  can  marry  you 
— if  he  chooses ;  but  if  he  does  not,  Flora, 
will  you  be  content  to  be  an  outcast  all 
your  life?" 

"Content?  No,  no!"  returned  the  girl, 
desperately. 

"But  what  can  one  do?  The  pressure 
of  love  is  so  great,  its  power  over  one  so 
tremendous,  nothing  can  measure  itself 
against  it  for  a  moment." 

There  was  a  long  pause.    They  had 

talked  in  the  gallery  while  the  moon 

climbed  up  and  up  the  sky;  she  threw  less 

light  into  it  now,  the  wall  was  in  dark- 

179 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

ness,  irregular  stripes  and  patches  still 
lay  upon  the  floor. 

"Do  you  think  he  will  marry  you?" 
came  in  a  low  tone  at  length  from  his  fig- 
ure sitting  in  darkness. 

"I  believe  so,  yes." 

"Then  you  have  my  consent.  Go  and 
be  as  happy  as  you  can  now.  It  is  ter- 
rible to  me  that  you  should  leave  your 
home  in  disgrace  and  shame.  If  we  had 
to  part  I  would  so  much  rather  we  could 
have  done  it  openly,  honourably  for  you. 
But,  you  see,  according  to  the  law,  I  must 
not  be  supposed  to  know.  I  must  appear 
to  be  dishonoured,  injured,  you  must  ap- 
pear to  be  heartless  and  disgraced,  other- 
wise I  could  not  give  you  your  freedom. 
I  could  not  get  a  divorce.  You  would  be 
shut  out  of  an  honourable  position  all 
your  life." 

180 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

'What  a  mad  arrangement  this  law  of 
divorce  isl" 

"Isn't  it?"  said  Bruce,  wearily.  "But 
it's  a  mad  world,  it's  no  use  worrying 
about  that.  What  had  you  intended  to 
do?  I  heard  you  make  some  appoint- 
ment with  the  man  as  I  came  up?" 

"I  meant  to  come  to  you  directly  he 
was  gone  and  explain  everything,  and  ask 
you  to  let  me  go ;  then,  if  you  consented,  I 
was  going  to  walk  to  the  station  to-night 
and  catch  the  midnight  express  to  town. 
There  I  was  going  to  an  hotel,  where  he 
will  join  me  to-morrow  at  five.  Then 
we  take  the  boat  train  to  Brindisi — about 
eight  I  think  it  leaves  Charing  Cross — 
and  from  Brindisi  we  should  go  to 
India." 

"I  see.  Well,  that  will  do.  You  can 
do  that  now.  When  I  hear  from  you 
181 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

that  you  are  living  with  him,  I  will  set 
you  free." 

And  in  that  moment,  such  are  the  reac- 
tions of  Nature,  when  she  heard  those 
words  she  had  dreamed  of  for  ten  years, 
an  infinite  sadness  enveloped  her.  She 
bowed  her  head  down  over  his  feet,  her 
eyes  streaming  with  tears. 

"Bruce,  I  am  so  sorry  about  it  all.  I 
wish  it  had  all  been  different.  Do  you 
think  I  am  very  wrong  to  go  away  from 
you  now?" 

He  stroked  her  hair  gently  as  he  had 
done  ten  years  before  when  she  had  called 
upon  him  for  his  love. 

"No,  dear,  go  now;  go  if  you  wish. 
You  have  given  me  ten  sweet  years." 

When  the  cage  door  is  set  open  the 

bird  generally  hesitates  uncertain  on  his 

perch   before   he   flies   out   to   freedom. 

After  long  years  of  captivity,  when  the 

182 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

gaoler  undoes  the  bolts,  the  prisoner  looks 
out  askance  into  the  unknown.  But  in 
this  girl  life  and  its  desires  were  still  so 
imperative.  She  was  sad,  reluctant  to 
go,  but  she  knew  within  her  heart  she 
could  not  stay. 

"I  am  so  grateful  to  you  for  giving  me 
my  freedom,  Bruce,  so  very,  very  grate- 
ful. I  could  not  go  without  your  consent, 
and  I  am  so  grateful  for  all  you  have 
done  for  me  all  this  time." 

"It  was  not  any  use,"  out  of  the  black- 
ness came  his  voice. 

The  girl  was  excited,  overstrained, 
deafened  by  the  turmoil  of  her  own  feel- 
ings within  her,  or  she  would  have  noted 
its  strained,  unusual  sound. 

"Go,  my  dearest,  now.     It  is  useless  to 
talk  further.     It  is  only  distressing  us. 
Nothing  has  been  your  fault,  it  has  all 
been  just  a  ...  mistake." 
183 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

Still  she  clasped  his  hand.  "Bruce, 
shall  I  stay  .  .  .?" 

"No,  not  now,  now  that  I  know.  I 
thought  you  were  fairly  content.  You 
see,  my  dear  one,  you  acted  too  well. 
Now  that  I  know  I  could  not  have  you 
stay.  Good-bye!" 

She  could  not  see  his  face.  The  moon 
had  climbed  over  the  edge  of  the  eaves 
and  left  them  in  darkness. 

"Good-bye!" 

She  kissed  his  hand  over  and  over 
again.  It  was  drenched  with  her  tears 
and  so  hot  with  the  pressure  of  her  own 
upon  it,  that  she  did  not  guess  the  chill  of 
its  sister  hand. 

She  rose  at  last  and  crept  away  in  the 
darkness.  For  a  time  the  soft  sounds  of 
her  departing  footsteps  came  to  him,  then 
they  ceased,  and  he  knew  he  was  alone. 
For  some  time  there  was  no  sound  in  the 
184 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

gallery,  the  bats  whirred  past  the  case- 
ment calling  with  their  sharp  voices  to 
each  other,  the  owls  began  to  hoot  from 
the  neighbouring  woods. 

At  last  there  was  a  low  groan  that 
startled  the  mice  playing  round  the  stove 
and  sent  them  scurrying  behind  the  tapes- 
try. Then  there  was  silence  again.  .  .  . 

Once  the  gallery  door  was  shut  the  in- 
fluence of  Bruce's  physical  presence  upon 
the  girl,  always  very  great,  was  gone. 

She  felt  sick,  weary,  and  miserable,  yet 
a  great  leaping  consciousness  seemed 
within  her  that  she  had  to  go  forward 
now,  that  she  had  set  her  feet  upon  a  road 
from  which  there  is  no  returning. 

She  could  not  think  of  Bruce  now. 
Her  life  henceforward  belonged  to  the 
other  man.  Such  immense  sorrow  and 
pain  wound  itself  about  the  memory  of 
Bruce  that  she  felt  she  could  not  bear  it. 
185 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

The  thought  of  the  other  man  was  cradled 
in  joy.  He  stood  for  all  she  had  known 
of  happiness  in  her  life.  She  felt  guilty, 
she  felt  she  had  been  unkind  to  the  man 
whose  name  she  had  borne  these  ten 
years,  she  felt  she  was  deserting  her  post, 
and  she  resented  this  great  weight  of 
sorrow  and  guilt  that  was  pressing  on  her. 

"It  is  not  fair!  I  have  given  him  ten 
years!  I  am  not  bound  to  give  him 
all  my  life!" 

Yet  his  gentleness,  his  free  gift  to  her 
now  of  what  she  desired,  made  her  feel  as 
if  she  were  his  debtor.  "Am  I?  Am 
I?"  she  wondered,  as  she  climbed  the 
great  stairs  for  the  last  time  now,  and  the 
feelings  of  her  wedding  evening  came 
back  upon  her. 

With  feverish  haste  she  went  to  her 
room,  the  same  great  room  where,  since 
her  lonely  wedding  night's  vigil,  she  had 
186 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

slept  for  ten  years  alone.  She  felt  she 
hated  it.  Much  as  she  had  always  loved 
Bruce  she  had  always  hated  the  Towers, 
and  now  at  last  she  was  going  to  escape, 
and  never  as  long  as  she  lived  would  her 
eyes,  she  hoped,  rest  on  those  hideous 
prison  walls  again. 

She  undressed  quickly,  and  redressed 
in  a  plain  black  travelling  dress,  long 
coat,  and  small  travelling  hat.  She  laid 
out  a  thick  black  veil  on  the  bed  with  her 
gloves,  and  then  began  to  pack  her  hand- 
bag with  a  few  necessary  things. 

She  was  leaving  everything  else. 
What  a  comfort  that  was,  to  be  leaving 
behind  all  these  tiresome  material  things  1 
To  be  for  the  future  free  from  the  inces- 
sant care  and  responsibility  of  all  these  in- 
animate objects,  which  so  burden  the  life 
of  the  rich,  objects  which  cannot  repay  in 
187. 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

affection  the  time  and  thought  bestowed 
upon  them. 

Her  handbag  packed  and  locked,  she 
looked  round,  and  then  crossed  the  floor 
to  her  jewel  cabinet,  and  stood  before  it. 

On  a  sudden  impulse  she  unlocked  the 
door  and  looked  in.  It  was  a  blaze  of 
splendour.  On  shallow  trays,  one  above 
the  other,  going  deeply  back  into  the 
cabinet,  lay  her  jewels,  spread  out  on  thin 
layers  of  cotton  wool  ready  for  wear. 

One  by  one  she  drew  out  each  movable 
tray  and  looked  down  on  its  contents — 
the  fire  and  brilliance,  the  magic  colours 
of  the  exquisite  stones,  ran  into  dancing 
mists  before  her  eyes. 

"Women  are  supposed  to  sell  their 
souls,  betray  their  lovers,  give  up  love  for 
these  1" 

She  pushed  back  the  trays,  shut  and  re- 
locked  the  doors.  Before  her,  as  she  did 
188 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

so,  hung  her  lover's  vivid  face,  with  its 
radiant  grey-blue  eyes — bluer  than  the 
sapphires  in  that  cabinet. 

Only  to  get  to  him  now!  A  terror  of 
the  Towers,  of  everything,  seemed  creep- 
ing over  her.  She  was  growing  hysteri- 
cally cold,  a  chill  seemed  in  all  her  limbs. 
To  be  with  him,  to  drown  all  the  whispers 
within  her  in  his  laugh!  The  urging 
wish  to  be  with  him  nerved  her.  She  put 
the  keys  of  the  jewel  cabinet  in  an  en- 
velope, sealed  it,  and  addressed  it  to  her 
husband,  then  pinned  on  her  dark  veil, 
drew  on  her  gloves,  and  went  quietly  out 
of  the  room  and  down  the  stairs.  She 
met  no  one;  she  passeti  out  of  the  main 
door,  crossed  the  carriage  drive,  and  took 
a  short  cut  across  the  grounds  that  she 
knew  well  led  to  the  high-road.  She 
looked  at  her  little  watch  in  the  moon- 
light, the  sole  thing  of  value  she  had 
189 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

taken.  It  was  twenty  to  twelve.  She 
must  hurry  or  she  would  miss  the  express. 

Once  on  the  high-road  she  walked  like 
the  wind.  How  good  it  was  to  be  free! 
Only  once  she  looked  back  to  the  Towers, 
dark  and  frowning  in  the  hard  black-and- 
white  tones  of  the  moonlight.  She  had 
escaped!  or  rather,  she  had  been  set  free! 
How  wonderful  it  was!  And  the  ten 
years  of  servitude  rolled  off  her  memory 
as  a  thunderstorm  rolls  away  from  a 
clearing  sky,  leaving  all  fresh  and  purely 
bright.  How  she  loved  him,  this  man 
she  was  going  to!  It  was  true  she  was 
lonely  and  on  the  high-road  to-night,  but 
to-morrow  night  she  would  be  in  his 
arms! 

The  wild  magic  thought  shone  before 

her  like  a  star.     Her  steps  were  light  and 

swift   as   a   hurrying   deer.     The   sharp 

February  wind  cut  her  cheek,  but  she  felt 

190 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

she  loved  it — the  dark  woods  seemed  to 
speed  by  her  as  she  fled  along  the  quiet 
road.  She  was  going  to  him. 

At  that  hour  the  small  station  was 
sleepy  and  deserted.  Only  one  porter 
and  the  night  clerk  who  did  not  know  her 
were  there  when  she  arrived,  with  glow- 
ing cheeks  and  dancing  pulses.  She  took 
a  second-class  ticket,  and  then  went  out  to 
pace  the  empty  platform  till  the  train  ar- 
rived. She  thought  of  her  incoming  to 
that  station  ten  years  ago — the  golden 
evening  and  the  singing  of  the  nightin- 
gales. There  was  no  music  of  nightin- 
gales now  nor  golden  light.  The  Febru- 
ary wind  howled  round  the  platform  in 
grim  blackness,  as  scudding  clouds  tore 
across  the  moon.  But  the  conditions  did 
not  depress  her — her  heart  seemed  to  ride 
on  the  stormy  wind  like  a  seagull. 

Sunshine  and  the  sweet  scent  of  flowers, 
191 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

summer  and  the  songs  of  birds,  gay 
portents  of  joy,  had  ushered  her  into  suf- 
fering. Perhaps  the  storm-cloud  and  the 
bite  of  the  wind  would  usher  her  into 
pleasure! 

The  express  came  up,  the  sleepy  porter 
opened  an  empty  second-class  carriage 
door.  She  entered.  The  train  waited 
its  stipulated  five  minutes.  No  one 
alighted  or  entered.  Then  the  express 
swung  on  in  the  darkness  on  its  non-stop 
run  to  London. 

Flora  leaned  back  in  her  corner  half 
dazed.  Until  she  had  really  got  into  the 
train  there  had  been  a  thought  in  her 
mind  that  she  would  be  stopped,  some  one 
would  meet  her,  something  would  prevent 
her  from  leaving  Carlingford.  Now 
that  she  saw  the  act  was  really  done,  her 
flight  was  an  accomplished  thing,  and  ac- 
complished so  simply,  so  easily,  a  feeling 
192 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

of  amaze  came  over  her,  but  there  was 
delight  in  it.  That  which  she  had  longed 
for,  thought  of,  dreamt  of  through  ten 
years,  an  escape,  and  an  escape  to  life 
and  love,  was  now  a  reality.  She  had 
escaped,  and  he  was  waiting  for  her,  wait- 
ing for  her  with  that  curious,  electrical 
fire  in  his  heart  which  had  so  magnetised 
her,  drawn  her  to  him  irrevocably  be- 
cause it  matched  her  own. 

She  thought  a  very  great  deal  of  Bruce, 
and  it  weighed  upon  her  to  have  left  him ; 
"but  then  he  has  so  much,  so  very  much," 
she  reflected.  "Everybody  was  always 
telling  me  that  all  those  things  ought  to 
content  one,  console  one  apparently  for 
everything.  Well,  he  has  them  all,  and 
he  can  so  easily  find  relations  to  live  with 
him,  or  after  a  time  he  can  marry  again. 
He  always  seemed  to  think  so  many  girls 
would  like  my  place." 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

When  she  reached  Paddington  it  was 
one-thirty,  and  she  drove  to  the  hotel 
Meredith  had  indicated  to  her.  The 
night  porter  received  her  and  showed  her 
to  her  rooms. 

Mr.  Meredith  had  telegraphed  in  the 
afternoon,  he  explained,  and  engaged 
them,  and  told  them  his  wife  could  not 
arrive  till  late,  and  they  were  to  have  tea 
ready  for  her  and  a  cold  supper.  Would 
she  take  anything  now? 

Flora  glanced  round  the  rooms,  a  bed- 
room and  sitting-room  communicating, 
small  but  extremely  clean  and  fresh-look- 
ing, daintily  furnished  in  rose  colour  with 
crimson  papered  walls;  a  fire  burnt 
cheerily  in  the  grate,  and  flowers  were 
everywhere,  white  and  pink,  costly  hot- 
house blooms,  white  lilac  and  la  France 
roses.  Her  heart  throbbed  with  delight. 
194 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

What  care  he  had  taken  in  his  prepara- 
tions for  her! 

"Mr.  Meredith  said  he  couldn't  be 
here  himself  till  five  to-morrow." 

Flora  nodded.  "Yes,  I  am  expecting 
him  then.  You  can  bring  the  tea,  please, 


now." 


The  man  went  out  and  closed  the  door. 
Flora  stood  alone  in  the  little  pink  room. 
Mayfair  is  quiet  at  1.30.  There  was  no 
noise  without,  inside  only  the  crackle  of 
the  fire,  otherwise  sweet,  scented  silence. 

She  was  alone  here.  She  was  Mrs. 
Meredith.  She  felt  suddenly  isolated, 
like  one  round  whom  a  magic  circle  is 
drawn,  from  which  he  cannot  step  to 
communicate  with  his  fellows.  Was  she 
becoming  a  new  entity?  CouM  she  do 
that?  She  was  alone  here  now  and  un- 
known, but  as  Mrs.  Challoner  she  was 
195 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

known  to  thousands  of  people  in  London. 
It  was  full  of  friends  and  acquaintances, 
to  say  nothing  of  enemies.  She  was  in 
Mayfair;  her  mother's  house  was  close 
by,  her  married  sisters  not  far  off,  but 
what  was  this  Mrs.  Meredith  to  them,  or 
they  to  her?  To-morrow,  unknown,  un- 
chronicled,  she  would  pass  quietly  away 
to  lands,  to  a  life,  to  joys  unknown  to 
them! 

Mrs.  Challoner  belonged  to  the 
Towers  and  Mayfair,  to  these  people,  to 
society.  Mrs.  Meredith  belonged  to  the 
wide  open  spaces  of  the  world,  to  love,  to 
herself.  A  sense  of  a  grand,  great  joy 
came  to  her.  She  stretched  out  her  arms 
wide,  as  if  fetters  had  just  fallen  from 
them. 

"Darling,    darling!"    she    murmured 
half  aloud.     "I  am  so  grateful  to  you, 
you  have  made  me  so  happy!" 
196 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Rhys'  face  seemed  all  round  her  in  the 
room  wherever  she  looked,  his  presence 
close  to  her  as  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers 
came  to  her. 

When  the  tea  came  up  she  drank  it, 
then  turned  the  key  in  her  door,  and  be- 
gan to  hastily  slip  off  her  clothes.  She 
was  tired  now  with  the  emotions  of  the 
last  seven  hours. 

As  she  untwisted  her  hair  she  looked 
curiously  at  herself  in  the  large  cheval 
glass.  She  was  very  attractive  now  at 
twenty-six,  not  more  so  than  at  sixteen, 
in  the  flush  of  joy  at  her  wedding  with 
Bruce,  but  certainly  more  so  than  at 
seventeen,  when  deadened  with  her  first 
year  at  the  Towers.  For  woman's 
beauty,  up  to  extreme  old  age,  is  not  a 
question  of  her  youth,  but  of  her  love. 
Beauty  is  a  gift  of  sex  alone,  and  it  was 
love  now  and  joy  that  were  busy  painting 
197 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

the  girl's  cheeks,  widening  and  expand- 
ing her  eyes,  and  filling  them  with  lustre, 
softening  her  brows,  and  whitening  her 
skin,  pouring  beauty  all  over  her.  As  for 
the  grey  strands  that  the  ten  barren  years 
had  caused  in  her  hair,  there  was  so 
much  of  burnished  gold  in  the  mass  that 
fell  to  her  waist  that  the  sorrowful  ashen 
hue  was  eclipsed  and  hidden. 

Satisfied  with  her  image,  she  got  into 
bed,  turning  off  all  the  lights,  and  still  in 
the  darkness  hung  before  her  delighted 
vision  the  brilliant,  smiling  face  of  Rhys 
Meredith. 


198 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  following  morning  she  rose  late,  did 
up  her  hair  half  a  dozen  times  to  make 
sure  she  had  the  most  becoming  look  in 
it,  dressed,  lunched,  and  then  about  four 
sat  down  to  dream  until  Rhys  should 
come.  She  did  not  dare  to  go  out.  Once 
outside  the  hotel  door  she  became  Mrs. 
Challoner  again,  and  she  wanted  to  for- 
get she  had  ever  been  that.  As  she  was 
sitting  idly  there  in  that  wonderful  de- 
licious dreamlike  state  in  which  a  woman 
recalls  and  rehears  and  resees  every  little 
incident  of  her  love,  a  page-boy  entered 
the  room. 

"Please,  madam,  there's  a  lady  come  to 

see  you." 

199 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Flora  turned  round  in  the  easy-chair. 
"A  lady?  I  think  there  must  be  some 
mistake.  What  is  her  name?" 

"Well,  madam,  it's  the  same  name  as 
yours,  Mrs.  Meredith." 

The  boy's  face  was  blank,  impassive, 
whatever  thought  may  have  traversed  his 
stolid  brain  did  not  appear  on  it. 

The  girl's  heart  stood  still.  What  was 
this?  Oh,  why  had  he  not  come? 

Would  anything  prevent  them  now ? 

Who  was  this?  His  mother?  .  .  . 
sister-in-law?  .  .  .  His — his — his — oh, 
not  that!  So  did  the  disjointed,  broken 
thoughts  fly  through  her  in  that  second's 
pause. 

"Show  the  lady  in  to  me,  please,"  she 
said  calmly  the  next  moment,  and  the  boy 
disappeared. 

Flora  rose,  and  stood  waiting.  She 
would  not  think;  she  merely  waited. 
200 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Her  face  was  like  a  statue's  in  its  repose. 

After  a  few  moments  the  door  opened, 
and  her  visitor  appeared. 

She  was  a  tall  woman,  extremely  well 
and  fashionably  dressed,  her  face  was 
rather  handsome  in  feature,  but  her  lips 
were  thin  and  hard,  and  her  eyes  vindic- 
tive. As  she  entered  and  the  boy  closed 
the  door,  Flora  indicated  a  chair,  and  the 
two  women  sat  down  facing  each  other. 

"I  expect  you  can  guess  who  I  am,'* 
the  woman  began,  without  any  preamble. 
"I  am  Mrs.  Rhys  Meredith,  Rhys'  wife." 
Her  voice  was  not  unpleasant;  it  was 
gentle,  and  had  now  an  accent  of  cynical 
amusement  in  it. 

Flora's  face  did  not  alter;  the  blow 
was  tremendous,  the  horrible  shock  of  it 
went  through  and  through  her,  but  she 
was  of  the  race  and  blood  whose  members 
do  not  show  their  wounds  to  an  enemy. 
20 1 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"You  did  not  know  that  he  had  a  wife, 
I  suppose?"  pursued  the  woman,  with  a 
slight  laugh. 

"I  do  not  know  that  he  has  one  now," 
replied  Flora,  coldly. 

"You  don't  believe  what  I  say?  I  ex- 
pected that,  so  I  have  brought  you  the 
proof  from  my  lawyer.  Will  you  look 
at  that?" 

She  handed  across  the  narrow  space 
that  intervened  between  them  a  long  en- 
velope. Flora  took  it  reluctantly. 

"I  should  think  you  had  better  know 
the  truth  about  Rhys,"  her  visitor  went 
on.  "The  truth  is  what  you  will  never 
hear  from  Rhys  himself." 

Flora  drew  out  mechanically  from  the 
envelope  a  folded  paper,  opened  it,  and 
looked  at  it.  She  saw  at  once  what  it 
purported  to  be,  and  what  it  probably 
was,  the  copy  of  a  certificate  of  marriage. 
202 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

She  saw  the  wedding  had  taken  place 
in  Calcutta  fifteen  years  ago  between 
Rhys  Meredith  and  Sophia  Bryan,  who 
was  then  twenty-eight,  while  he  was 
twenty-two.  She  took  in  all  the  main 
facts  that  the  slip  of  paper  imparted  to 
her;  then  she  refolded  it,  put  it  back  in 
the  envelope,  and  handed  it  to  the 
other. 

"Well,  why  have  you  come  to  see  me?" 
she  asked  quietly. 

The  other  woman  looked  astonished 
and  a  little  disconcerted. 

"Are  you  not  here  as  Mrs.  Meredith?" 
she  asked,  to  which  Flora  nodded.  "That 
is  not  your  name,  it's  a  false  name,  and 
what  is  more,  it  is  my  name.  I  was 
very  considerate  just  now.  I  did  not  tell 
these  people  who  you  were,  though  I 
knew  very  well.  Do  you  suppose  they 
would  keep  you  here  a  minute  if  they 
203 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

knew?  Of  course  not;  they  would  turn 
you  out  immediately." 

Flora's  face  paled  to  the  lips.  A 
deadly  pain  seemed  closing  round  her 
heart,  gripping  it,  so  that  she  could 
hardly  speak. 

Like  most  people  who  have  lived  all 
their  lives  in  obedience  to  the  established 
laws  and  conventions,  she  had  never 
realised  their  power.  She  was  beginning 
to  feel  dimly  now  that  she  was  face  to 
face  with  a  monstrous  force — a  Moloch 
so  huge,  so  gigantic,  that  her  little  feeble 
life,  her  little  weak  body  and  soul,  would 
be  snapped  in  a  moment  in  its  iron  jaws 
— -if  it  caught  her. 

But  it  should  not;  no,  it  should  not. 
She  and  Rhys  would  escape.  Thank 
Heaven!  Mayfair  was  not  the  whole 
world! 

Whatever  legal  status  this  woman  be^ 
204 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

fore  her  had,  she  felt  sure  she  had  no 
ethical  right  to  the  name  and  the  life  of 
Rhys.  One  glance  at  her  face  told  her 
that.  The  great  primitive  right  of  a 
woman  to  a  man,  as  of  a  man  to  a  woman, 
is  that  one  can  make  the  other  happy. 
No  individual  has  the  right  to  claim  an- 
other's life  to  make  him  unhappy,  not  a 
hundred  marriage  ceremonies  can  justify 
that. 

The  girl's  brave,  clever  nature  rose  un- 
der the  pressure  that  would  have  crushed 
another. 

There  were  other  names  in  the  world 
beside  that  of  Meredith — if  that  were  al- 
ready taken! 

"I  am  sorry  I  am  here  under  your 
name,"  she  said,  after  a  moment,  "and 
I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  considera- 
tion. I  did  not  know  about  it.  I  will 
not  use  your  name  again." 
205 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

"Oh  no;  I  guessed  Rhys  hadn't  told 
you  about  me,"  returned  the  other, 
lightly,  "nor  his  family  either;  it 
wouldn't  be  like  him  at  all  to  tell  you." 

"What  family?" 

"His  children;  there  are  five  of  them. 
We  lived  together  for  seven  years,  then 
I  got  tired  of  it.  I  told  him  so.  I  could 
not  go  on  like  that.  Then  he  went  to 
other  women.  I  could  not  stand  that. 
Why  should  I?  So  I  left  him  alto- 
gether." 

"Eight  years  ago  you  left  him  finally?" 
Flora  asked;  her  lips  and  throat  were 
dry. 

"Yes ;  he  often  asked  me  to  come  back 
at  first.  I  would  not  do  that;  but  I  al- 
ways kept  him  in  view." 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  to  see  what  he  did.  Of  course 
he  was  always  with  women.  You  see,  he 
206 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

can't  divorce  me,  for  I  don't  care  a  bit 
about  men.  My  life  is  open  enough. 
No  one  can  find  any  fault  with  it,  but  I 
can  divorce  him  if  I  choose;  but,  of 
course,  I  don't  choose." 

"Why?  If  you  don't  want  him  your- 
self, why  not  let  him  be  happy  with  some 
one  else?" 

"Why  should  I?"  repeated  the  other. 
"My  position  is  better  as  it  is;  besides, 
hunting  him  down  wherever  he  is,  and 
making  him  uncomfortable,  has  been  my 
amusement  these  last  eight  years.  Le- 
gally, I  can  only  divorce  him,  and  that  I 
know  would  put  him  in  the  seventh 
heaven ;  but  socially,  under  the  social  law, 
I  can  punish  him  beautifully." 

Flora  gazed  at  her  in  amazement.    She 

was  speaking  with  great  animation  now, 

her  eyes  were  sparkling.     She  enjoyed 

her  power  evidently  and  recounting  her 

307 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

triumphs  and  prowess  to  another.  To 
Flora's  gentle,  sensitive  heart,  to  her 
nature  that  loved  above  all  giving 
pleasure,  this  woman's  view  of  life 
seemed  absolutely  horrible,  murderous. 

Yet  she  had  boasted  just  now  no  one 
could  find  fault  with  her. 

"I  have  all  the  money  I  want  and  noth- 
ing much  to  do,  so  you  see  it  makes  a 
little  amusement  for  me,"  she  repeated. 
"Socially,  I  can  ruin  him  anywhere, 
wherever  he  goes.  I  have  only  to  ap- 
pear and  say  I  am  his  wife,  and  then,  if 
he  is  living  with  somebody  else,  they 
have  to  bolt  in  disgrace ;  so  I  advise  you, 
Mrs.  Challoner,  to  let  my  husband 
alone;"  and  she  drew  the  delicate  black 
scarf  a  little  closer  round  her  rather  aris- 
tocratic neck,  as  if  she  were  about  to 
leave. 

208 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

Flora  hoped  she  would.  The  mere 
presence  of  this  woman  made  her  feel  ill. 
It  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  were  suddenly 
in  a  cage  with  a  beast  of  prey. 

Far  as  the  stars  from  the  plains  were 
her  ethics  from  those  of  this  woman. 

"And  does  no  one  inquire  which  of 
you  is  in  the  right?"  she  asked  almost  in- 
voluntarily. "Does  the  world  uphold 
you  in  all  this?" 

The  other  smiled,  and  Flora  thought 
of  vultures  gloating  over  their  prey  as  she 
did  so. 

"Of  course  it  upholds  me.  I  am  his 
Wife." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  then 
Flora  said  in  a  low  tone— 

"Does  not  being  a  wife  mean  having 
duties,  a  wife's  duties?" 

"It  does  not  mean  living  with  her  hus- 
209 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

band,"  rejoined  the  other.  "The  law  has 
settled  that.  No  woman  is  forced  to  live 
with  a  man  she  does  not  like,  thank 
Heaven!  She  is  free  to  leave  him." 

"And  torment  him?" 

"Certainly,  unless  he  leads  a  moral 
life." 

Flora  gazed  at  her  for  a  few  moments, 
and  then  laughed,  quite  simply  and  natu- 
rally. For  the  moment  the  ridiculous  ab- 
surdity of  the  world's  justice  moved  her 
and  she  forgot  everything  personal. 

Mrs.  Meredith  looked  surprised  and 
annoyed.  The  shadow  swept  over 
Flora's  face  again  immediately. 

"It  seems  to  me  you  are  the  immoral 
one,"  she  said  shortly.  "You  left  Rhys, 
you  refused  to  go  back  to  him,  you  re- 
fused to  free  him,  you  drive  him  into 
wrong-doing  for  your  own  amusement. 
It  is  abominable.  If  the  law  upholds 
210 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

you  in  all  that  it  ought  to  be  altered. 
What  was  marriage  for?  To  give  the 
right  to  two  people  to  live  together;  to 
make  each  other  happy;  to  help,  com- 
fort, console,  support  each  other.  If  one 
goes  away  voluntarily  from  the  other  for 
any  length  of  time,  that  going  away  ought 
ipso  facto  to  dissolve  the  marriage." 

The  other  woman  merely  shrugged  her 
shoulders. 

"Well,  it  doesn't,  you  see." 

Secure,  safe,  blameless  in  the  world's 
eyes,  with  all  she  wanted,  and  empowered 
by  the  law  to  prevent  others  having  what 
they  wanted,  her  position  was  enviable 
and  satisfactory  in  the  extreme. 

This  is  what  she  seemed  to  be  saying, 
though  not  in  words,  as  she  sat  there  op- 
posite this  other  woman — beautiful,  ten- 
der, devoted,  only  asking  to  give  up  her 
life  to  make  another  happy. 

211 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Flora  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  in 
silence,  then  she  rose. 

"Have  you  finished  all  you  wish  to  say 
to  me?  If  so,  will  you  please  leave  me?" 
she  said  simply. 

She  felt  she  could  not  breathe  any 
longer  in  the  same  room  with  her,  also 
she  knew  it  must  be  nearly  five,  though 
she  would  not  look  at  the  clock  to  show 
her  visitor  she  was  expecting  Rhys.  But 
if  he  should  come  and  find  his  wife  here, 
what  would  happen?  Mrs.  Meredith 
got  up  too. 

"I  have  nothing  more  to  say.  I  came 
here  to  warn  you,  and  I  have  done  so. 
Only  remember  this,  if  you  choose  to  go 
away  with  him,  don't  think  you  can  escape 
me.  My  detectives  follow  him  every- 
where. If  you  go  to  bury  yourselves  in 
the  ends  of  the  earth  I  shall  know  where 
it  is.  Wherever  you  go  I  can  come  too. 
212 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Whatever  house  or  hotel  you  may  go  to 
I  can  have  you  turned  out  into  the  streets. 
In  whatever  circle  you  are  I  can  make 
you  both  outcasts.  It's  one  thing  to  run 
away  with  a  single  man  and  get  him  to 
marry  you,  it's  another  to  live  with  a  mar- 
ried man  and  never  have  a  decent  position 
again.  All  your  children  will  be  illegiti- 
mate, outcasts  too,  like  yourself,  and  re- 
member, this  man  is  mine:  his  money,  his 
name,  his  life,  his  body,  belong  to  me, 
and  I  will  never  give  him  his  freedom, 


never" 


Flora  put  her  hand  over  her  eyes  to 
shut  out  the  sight  of  this  awful  thing — a 
woman,  the  most  perfect  and  divine  work 
of  God,  turned  into  a  malignant  fiend  by 
her  evil  passions.  Evil  incarnate  was  in 
her  face,  and  to  Flora  it  seemed  that  she 
stood  listening  to  the  commination  of  her 
beloved  in  that  terrible  speech.  She  was 
213 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

not  thinking  of  herself,  she  was  thinking 
of  Rhys.  "He  too  has  the  life  sentence," 
she  thought. 

In  that  moment,  before  either  of  the 
women  had  moved,  the  door  opened  im- 
petuously and  Meredith  came  into  the 
room. 

"Darling,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  know  I  am 

rather  late,  but "  and  then  his  eyes 

fell  on  his  wife. 

She  was  between  him  and  Flora.  He 
pushed  her  aside,  his  face  stone  white,  his 
eyes  on  fire.  He  came  straight  up  to 
iFlora  and  took  both  her  hands,  gazing 
appealingly,  desperately  into  her  face. 
It  was  very  pale,  but  she  smiled  at  him, 
that  sweet  smile  he  knew  so  well.  Ah  I 
what  a  thing  it  is  for  a  man,  in  this  dreary 
world,  to  know  one  face  will  always  smile 
upon  him,  no  matter  what  his  faults  or 
214 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

failings,  no  matter  how  the  howling  mob 
may  be  stoning  him!  In  that  one  face 
he  will  see  always  the  image  of  Divine 
Love  reflected  there  for  him. 

He  read  at  once  in  that  exquisite  ex- 
pression of  tenderness  and  comprehension 
she  had  heard  and  forgiven  all. 

"I  am  so  very  glad  you  have  come, 
Rhys,"  she  whispered.  "Ask  her  to  go 


now." 


He  turned  to  his  wife.  "Go  out  of  this 
room,"  he  said;  that  was  all,  but  the  tone 
had  that  iron  sound  in  it  of  hate  and 
loathing  that  is  only  heard  when  a  man's 
whole  blood  is  seething  with  the  desire  to 
murder. 

Mrs.  Meredith  went  to  the  door.  "I 
am  going,  Rhys.  I've  said  all  I  wanted. 
Good-bye,  Mrs.  Challoner." 

She  had  opened  the  door  before  she 
215 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

uttered  the  last  words.  They  were  dis- 
tinctly audible  to  the  page-boy  who  stood 
outside. 

Rhys  pressed  the  door  to,  and  then 
stood  with  his  back  against  it.  His  hands 
were  clenched  into  tight  balls  at  his  sides. 
His  face  was  white  and  glistened  with 
sweat.  The  blue-grey  eyes  were  black 
now  and  mad,  unseeing  with  rage. 

Flora  came  up  to  him,  but  she  did  not 
dare  to  touch  him  or  speak  to  him.  The 
man  in  his  supreme  effort  to  control  him- 
self, to  keep  down  that  primitive  instinct 
of  his  race,  to  kill,  was  in  physical  agony. 

He  stood  like  that  for  some  moments, 
and  Flora  watched  him,  her  heart  aching 
with  sympathy  and  distress,  her  eyes  fas- 
cinated by  that  strong,  passionate  face 
that  even  this  wild  anger  could  not  dis- 
figure. 

"Good  God,  that  woman!"  he  mut- 
216 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 


tered  at  last.  "This  is  how  it  has  been 
for  the  last  eight  years." 

"But  can  you  do  nothing  really,  Rhys?" 
Flora  asked.  "Can't  you  ever  get  free? 
Is  il  true  what  she  said,  that  you  can't 
ever  divorce  her?" 

"Quite  true.  I  have  tried  everything 
to  get  free;  consulted  every  lawyer  in 
London.  Oh,  Flora,  what  are  these  laws 
for?  Are  they  made  to  drive  one  into 
immorality  and  then  into  murder?  I 
shall  kill  her  one  day,  I  know  I  shall." 

"Oh,  hush,  Rhys,  don't  ever  think  of 
that!  There  must  be  some  remedy, 
surely,  if  she  has  deserted  you." 

"No,  no,  no,  I  tell  you;  a  legal  separa- 
tion, that's  all.  If  his  wife  deserts  him,  a 
man  can  apply  for  restitution  of  conjugal 
rights;  if  that  fails,  he  can  have  a  legal 
separation;  if  she  is  unfaithful,  he  can  get 
a  divorce.  That's  how  it  is.  If  there  is 
217 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

no  infidelity,  he  can't.  The  law  only  rec- 
ognises that  one  fault  in  a  woman.  If 
she  has  not  that,  the  law  allows  her  to 
ruin  a  man's  life  with  impunity." 

Flora  put  her  hand  gently  on  his.  "I 
am  so  sorry." 

The  man's  anger  seemed  dissipated  at 
her  touch.  His  face  relaxed,  he  bent  for- 
ward and  took  her  impulsively  into  his 
arms. 

"Do  you  forgive  me?  You  see  how 
selfish  I  have  been,  what  a  brute  to  take 
you  at  all,  when  you  must  be  so  sacri- 
ficed. Are  you  coming  with  me,  after 
all,  now  that  you  know?" 

She  pressed  her  lips  up  to  the  smooth, 
clear  cheek.  For  the  sake  of  the  touch  of 
it,  for  the  fire  in  his  eyes,  for  the  beauty 
of  his  brows,  for  his  wild  passion  for  her, 
she  was  going  to  throw  in  her  life  with 
his,  and  these  things  remained  the  same, 
218 


whether  he  were  right  or  wrong,  selfish 
or  not,  a  brute  or  otherwise. 

"Yes,  I  am  coming.  I  shall  always 
love  you." 

"My  own!"  He  strained  her  to  him, 
and  those  great  beats  of  his  heart,  that 
went  through  them  both,  told  her  to  be 
happy  in  spite  of  all ;  that  she  had  done 
well.  "We  must  get  off  at  once,  Flora. 
I  can't  tell  what  that  woman  may  do.  My 
luggage  is  all  downstairs.  Have  you 
nothing?  My  darling,  was  that  wise?" 

"I  couldn't  bring  anything  more  than  a 
handbag.  Can't  we  stop  in  Italy  and  get 
just  a  few  things  for  the  voyage?  I  want 
so  little." 

"Yes,  that  will  do.  Put  your  hat  on 
now  while  I  go  and  pay  the  bill.  I  will 
be  back  in  a  moment." 

He  set  her  free  from  him,  and  went  out 
of  the  room  with  that  characteristic  im- 
219 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

pulse  of  his  to  do  immediately  anything 
he  decided  on.  He  went  down  the  stairs 
which  Mrs.  Meredith  had  descended  a 
few  minutes  previously.  That  lady,  on 
reaching  the  hall,  had  inquired  for  the 
manager  of  the  hotel,  and,  on  being  shown 
into  his  private  room,  had  disturbed  his 
peace  of  mind  very  seriously  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour.  Then  she  had  driven  off, 
well  pleased  with  her  evening's  call. 

When  Rhys  appeared  downstairs  the 
servants  looked  at  him  in  a  scared  way; 
but  he  paid  his  bill  without  interruption, 
and  his  luggage  was  put  up  on  the  cab 
by  a  porter*  No  remark  was  made  to 
him. 

The  manager  had  decided  that,  after 
all,  if  the  culprits  were  going,  granted 
they  were  culprits,  what  more  was  neces- 
sary? Let  them  go  in  peace.  Why  have 
any  disagreeable  in  his  first-class  hotel? 
220 


Moreover,  he  could  not  see  by  his  books 
that  Mr.  Challoner  had  ever  stayed  with 
him,  whereas  Mr.  Meredith  was  a  good 
customer,  and  if  a  lady  did  choose  to  come 
and  complain  to  him  of  one  of  his  guests, 
he  was  not  bound  to  believe  her. 

So  when  Flora  came  down,  a  page-boy 
was  carrying  her  bag,  and  the  manager 
bowed  and  saw  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Meredith 
into  their  cab  in  his  second-best  manner. 
They  could  not  expect  his  best,  after  such 
a  disturbance,  but  his  second-best  was 
quite  good,  and  they  drove  away  undis- 
turbed towards  Charing  Cross. 


221 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  Indian  Ocean  lay  very  still  and  tran- 
quil under  a  smiling  sky  as  the  great  Eng- 
lish liner  neared  Bombay.  It  had  been 
a  calm  and  delightful  voyage  with  long 
blue  days  in  which  the  ship  moved  on 
in  stately  ease  between  shining  sky  and 
sea,  and  silver  nights,  in  which  it  seemed 
to  guide  like  a  phantom,  so  smooth  was 
its  motion  over  the  radiant  surface. 

In  a  deck  cabin,  out  of  which  opened  a 
small  private  saloon,  Flora  lay  in  her 
berth  dreamily  looking  up  at  the  mir- 
rowed  reflection  of  the  water  thrown  in 
dancing  light  on  the  ceiling  above  her. 

It  was  early  yet.  She  need  not  get  up 
this  moment.  Rhys  was  on  deck  writing 
222 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

the  last  chapter  of  his  book  on  English 
Homes.  He  would  be  in  again  presently 
when  the  coffee  came.  She  could  get  up 
then.  It  was  so  pleasant  to  lie  still  some- 
times, quite  alone  like  this,  and  think  of 
all  the  pleasure  she  had  had  in  this  past 
month. 

A  month!     Only  so  short  a  time,  but 
it  had  been  her  life. 

At  the  Towers  a  month  had  been 
nothing,  it  passed,  dissolved,  just  as  a 
drop  in  the  ocean  of  time.  But  this  one 
seemed,  as  she  looked  back  on  it,  to  be 
like  a  period  of  thirty  years  instead  of 
thirty  days,  so  varied,  so  intense  had  been 
the  emotions,  experiences  that  filled  it. 
How  happy  she  had  been!  There  had 
been  no  disappointment,  no  sense  of  loss 
of  anything  she  had  expected.  Love  had 
really  been  for  her  that  golden,  dazzling 
joy  she  had  always  pictured  it. 
223 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

Rhys  had  not  disappointed  her.  That 
which  she  had  felt  for  him  at  the  Towers 
she  could  not  now  exactly  realise.  What 
had  it  been?  A  mixture  of  attraction  and 
curiosity  and  admiration.  But  now  the 
soul  of  her  love  for  him  was  an  inex- 
pressible gratitude — gratitude  for  these 
thirty  magic  days  of  happiness.  After 
leaving  the  Mayfair  Hotel,  they  had  gone 
straight  to  Italy,  and  there,  for  her  sake, 
in  order  to  get  her  things,  they  had  broken 
their  journey  for  a  week. 

Ah,  that  week  in  Italy!  If  she  were 
to  live  for  ever,  she  could  never  forget  it. 
They  had  been  in  Rome,  and  the  weather 
had  been  warm  and  still  and  sunny.  Rhys 
had  found  good  rooms  for  them.  What 
a  bedroom  that  had  been  in  Rome  with 
its  painted  ceiling  where  cupids  sported, 
pelting  each  other  with  roses!  And  he 
224 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

had  been  there,  else  it  would  all  have 
been  nothing. 

But  he  had  been  there,  seeming  to  fill 
the  room  with  his  vivid  presence.  He 
was  life  incarnate.  He  was  never  ill, 
never  tired,  or  depressed.  He  came  to 
her  always  with  a  smile  and  a  buoyant 
step,  always  ready  to  kiss  and  caress  her, 
full  of  that  same  eager,  ardent  passion  for 
her  that  had  filled  her  with  joy  in  the 
gallery.  And  he  had  been  tender  and 
kind  and  sympathetic  too.  Once,  when 
she  had  jammed  her  fingers  in  her  ward- 
robe door  at  Rome  and  been  unable  to 
stop  her  tears,  there  had  been  tears  in  his 
eyes  too,  and  he  had  sat  up  half  the  night 
bandaging  and  bathing  her  wounded 
hand. 

In  word  and  look,  in  every  way,  he  had 
been  kind  and  gentle,  unselfish  too,  put- 
225 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

ting  her  wishes,  wherever  possible,  before 
his  own.  She  went  over  all  this  in  her 
mind,  and  felt  the  extreme  of  gratitude  to 
him. 

It  did  not  occur  to  her  to  think  of  her 
own  share  in  making  that  mutual  happi- 
ness they  had  enjoyed.  It  would  have 
been  hard  for  any  man  not  to  have  been 
good  to  a  woman  who  threw  herself  into 
passionate  adoration  for  him  in  the  way 
she  did — provided  he  wanted  that  pas- 
sionate adoration.  And  Rhys  did  want 
it.  For  years  past  no  woman  had  stirred 
him  and  roused  his  passion  as  Flora  had 
done,  and  her  response  to  him  now  satis- 
fied and  delighted  him.  He  began  to 
love,  too,  that  gentle,  devoted  nature  she 
showed  him,  and  all  her  severe  training  in 
self-control  and  self-sacrifice  through  ten 
long  years  stood  her  in  good  stead  now. 
Those  sharp  retorts,  that  giving  way  to 
226 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

momentary  ill-temper,  which  so  often 
mar  the  daily  life  of  people  who  really 
love  each  other,  were  absent  here.  Ac- 
customed as  she  was  to  bear  with  Bruce 
in  every  way,  to  yield  to  hjm  on  every 
point,  to  give  up  her  own  wishes  at  any 
time,  how  easy  for  her  now  to  do  it  all  for 
Rhys!  All  these  things  helped  to  make 
the  perfection  of  their  lives,  but  the  real 
principle  underlying  their  happiness  that 
formed  the  foundation  of  it,  which  noth- 
ing could  shake,  was  that  each  wanted 
that  which  the  other  had  to  give,  and 
nothing  else  and  nothing  more.  And 
each  had  a  passionate  gratitude  to  the 
other  for  the  joy  they  could  give. 

"It  cannot  possibly  last,"  she  thought 
as  she  lay  there,  "nothing  so  perfect,  so 
exquisite  can  last  very  long;  like  the  sun- 
set and  the  sunrise  and  youth  and  all  the 
nice  things  of  life,  it  must  be  short.  But 
227 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

it  will  always  be  wonderful  to  have  had 
it." 

They  had  spoken  very  little  of  the  past, 
or,  for  the  matter  of  that,  of  the  future, 
which  must  be  so  difficult,  so  complicated 
for  them.  Flora  had  not  reproached  him 
for  his  deception — for  anything.  The 
name  of  the  wife  had  hardly  been  men- 
tioned between  them,  neither  had  the 
name  of  Bruce. 

They  felt  in  a  way  like  two  who  shel- 
tered for  a  moment  under  a  hill  on  a 
battlefield.  There  was  a  little  respite  for 
them.  They  were  eager  to  take  that  and 
enjoy  it.  They  would  come  out  and  face 
the  bullets  afterwards. 

As  she  turned  in  her  berth,  her  hair, 
now  brightly  gold  again  from  all  the 
strength  her  joy  had  poured  into  it, 
streamed  over  the  edge,  the  sleeves  fell 
back  from  her  white  dimpled  arms  as  she 
228 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

stretched  them  above  her  head,  and  in 
that  moment  Rhys  entered.  He  had 
come  in,  a  little*  vexed  at  finding  the  cof- 
fee set  on  the  saloon  table  and  growing 
cold,  and  the  girl  not  there  as  he  had  ex- 
pected, but  the  moment  he  saw  that  vision 
he  forgot  his  anger. 

"My  darling,  do  get  up,"  he  said, 
coming  over  and  kissing  her.  "The 
coffee  is  all  getting  cold,  and  we  are  close 
to  Bombay  now." 

"Rhys,  I  am  sorry  I  am  late,  but  I  lay 
here  thinking  of  you,  and  it  was  so  sweet 
I  forgot  all  about  the  time." 

Rhys  gave  his  ready  laugh,  and  took 
her  dressing-gown  from  an  empty  berth 
and  put  it  around  her. 

"Come  in  in  that,  and  let's  have  break- 
fast. I  have  been  working  so  hard  I'm 
quite  hungry." 

Flora  sprang  up,  and  hastily  twisting 
229 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

up  her  hair,  came  into  the  saloon  in  her 
dressing-gown  and  slippers,  and  began 
pouring  out  the  coffee. 

"How  hot  the  air  is  here,  beautifully 
hot  this  morning,  isn't  it?  Fancy,  it's 
March!  How  different  it  would  be  in 
England!" 

"It  is  perfect  just  now.  I  do  hope 
you  will  like  your  first  view  of  Bom- 
bay." 

"Bombay,  like  every  other  place,  will 
be  the  Garden  of  Eden  for  me;"  and  she 
looked  across  at  him  with  those  turquoise 
eyes  that  had  grown  so  lovely  now  she  no 
longer  had  to  keep  the  lovelight  out  of 
them. 

A  shade  of  sadness  clouded  the  man's 
expressive  face. 

"I  hope  there  will  be  no  serpent  in  it 
for  you,"  he  returned  gently. 

"There  is  no  serpent  that  matters  un- 
230 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

less  its  name  is  Separation,"  she  answered. 
"Let  me  see  your  new  chapter." 

She  hated  the  gloom  to  come  over  his 
face  and  wanted  to  banish  it. 

He  showed  her  the  work  he  had  done 
in  the  morning  hours,  and  they  talked 
over  it  while  they  drank  their  coffee,  and 
the  ship  slowly  neared  the  port. 

After  breakfast  she  went  to  dress  and 
put  together  their  things  in  the  cabin,  and 
before  she  had  finished  the  ship  was  at  a 
standstill.  They  were  in  the  harbour. 
Rhys  came  down  to  her  with  a  telegram 
in  his  hand. 

"I  hear  we  can  have  that  bungalow  I 
asked  my  friend  to  get  for  me  if  he  could. 
I  wired  to  him  about  it  from  Italy.  He 
sends  me  this  to  say  he  engaged  it,  and 
it's  ready  for  us.  I  think  we  had  better 
drive  there  with  these  small  things  and 
then  let  the  heavy  baggage  come  after." 
231 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

"How  splendid  of  you  to  think  of  it 
and  get  it  for  us!"  she  answered,  looking 
up  from  a  portmanteau  she  was  just  clos- 
ing. 

This  was  one  of  the  things  that  always 
won  her  admiration,  the  clever  way  in 
which  he  organised  and  managed  all  the 
small  details  of  life.  It  is  a  gift  with 
some  men,  and  Rhys  had  it.  He  always 
knew  the  exact  train  to  catch  and  caught 
it,  always  seemed  to  know  the  right  hotels, 
or  rooms,  to  go  to,  always  had  their  lug- 
gage shipped  in  the  right  way. 

He 'smiled.  Though  she  praised  al- 
most everything  he  did,  he  never  seemed 
tired  of  hearing  those  sweet  lips  say  the 
kind  things. 

"Are  you  ready  now  then?  I  have  a 
carriage  waiting." 

"Yes,  I  am  quite  ready." 
232 


THE     LIFE    SENTENCE 

She  got  up  and  stood  in  the  centre  of 
the  cabin.  Rhys  came  up  to  her. 

"We  are  going  to  land  here,  and  we 
don't  know  what  troubles  may  await  us; 
but  so  far,  you  have  been  perfectly  happy 
with  me,  have  you  not?" 

She  had  a  large  shady  hat  on  which 
threw  a  shadow  over  her  face,  but  in  it  he 
saw  the  illuminating  smile  come  into  her 
eyes  and  curl  her  lips. 

"Absolutely!" 

There  was  no  need  for  more  than  that 
one  word.  She  put  her  whole  soul  into 
it. 

They  went  out  on  to  the  deck  together. 

After  a  drive  of  some  length  they 
reached  their  bungalow,  and  the  girl  gave 
a  cry  of  delight  as  she  saw  it 

A  square  white  house,  low  and  flat- 
roofed,  with  a  balustrade  round  it,  stand- 
233 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

ing  in  its  own  compound,  filled  with  wav- 
ing palms,  met  their  eyes. 

"To  be  under  these  wonderful  palms 
at  last  which  I  have  read  and  thought  and 
dreamt  about  so  much!  Are  they  not 
lovely,  Rhys,  are  they  not  beautiful?" 

They  drove  in  at  the  white  stone  gate, 
and  the  carriage  road  lay  between  a  wil- 
derness of  flowers  on  each  side.  The  sun 
was  high  now  and  its  rays  very  powerful, 
but  it  only  fell  upon  them  lightly  through 
the  arching  cocoa-nut  palms  above  their 
heads.  The  house  front  was  covered 
with  stephanotis  and  the  scent  of  it  filled 
the  air,  coming  out  in  waves  of  fragrance 
to  meet  them ;  some  white  doves  were  coo- 
ing on  the  threshold  of  the  open  door 
where  the  native  servants  stood  bowing 
and  salaaming. 

The  carriage  stopped,  and  Flora  had 
again  that  strange  delight  that  always 
234 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

filled  her  when  she  heard  Rhys  talking 
in  a  foreign  tongue.  He  knew  so  many ; 
he  was  never  at  a  loss,  and  he  spoke  them 
all  so  well.  Now  she  heard  him  talking 
in  Hindustani  to  the  pleased  servants, 
pleased  because  for  once  an  English  Sahib 
was  talking  a  Hindustani  they  could  un- 
derstand. A  woman  of  narrower  mind 
might  have  felt  vexed  at  his  talking  in  a 
tongue  she  could  not  comprehend,  but  to 
her  it  was  like  listening  to  music.  It  was 
a  glorification  of  her  lover  that  he  knew 
all  these  things,  and  so  it  pleased  her. 
What  did  it  matter  if  it  were  a  humilia- 
tion to  her  to  be  shut  out  of  his  conversa- 
tion? her  pleasure  in  his  knowledge 
eclipsed  all  else.  It  is  this  habit  of  pla- 
cing self  second  and  another  first  that  aids 
so  much  the  smooth  running  of  life's 
wheels. 

She  sat  in  the  carriage  listening  to  the 
235 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

unfamiliar  language  and  the  cooing  of  the 
doves,  drawing  in  the  fragrance  of  flow- 
ers, and  feeling  all  her  being  swim  in  a 
boundless  sea  of  delight. 

Rhys  came  back  to  her  after  a  moment 
and  helped  her  from  the  carriage.  The 
cool  darkness  of  the  house  seemed  sooth- 
ing to  their  heated  eyes.  The  delicate 
new  green  matting  crackled  softly  under 
their  feet  as  they  went  inside. 

"What  a  beautiful  house,  Rhys!"  she 
exclaimed,  as  he  took  her  through  the 
rooms,  all  large  and  cool,  and  shaded  by 
outside  blinds  or  jilmils,  filled  with  a  soft 
green  light  reflected  from  the  surround- 
ing garden.  The  rooms  opened  one  from 
another.  There  seemed  no  doors,  only 
the  swaying  musical  chicks,  blinds  made 
of  beads  strung  on  loose  swinging 
threads,  that  opened  as  they  passed 
236 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

through  and  fell  together  again  behind 
them  with  a  soft  jingle. 

There  were  flowers  in  every  room,  not 
one  or  two,  but  great  bowls  of  them,  and 
every  corner  of  the  house  was  permeated 
with  their  fragrance.  It  was  furnished 
well,  with  the  comfort  of  any  well-ap- 
pointed English  house,  but  over  all  there 
was  an  indefinable  stamp  of  the  East  and 
Eastern  things  which  delighted  her. 

"Now  you  must  be  tired  and  hungry," 
Rhys  said  at  last,  when  they  came  back 
to  the  dining-room  after  a  complete  tour. 
"Sit  down  and  rest  here.  I  have  to  see 
the  men  about  our  luggage,  then  I'll  come 
back  and  we'll  lunch." 

On  the  centre  table  luncheon  was  al- 
ready laid,  and  the  damask  and  silver 
gleaming  under  white  roses  and  smilax. 
237 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

Flora  sank  down  on  the  oriental  silk-cov- 
ered couch  and  looked  up  at  him. 

"It  is  all  perfect,  Rhys,  how  can  I  thank 
you?" 

He  bent  over  her,  an  expression  of 
great  tenderness  on  his  face. 

"It  is  nothing  to  the  Towers,  my  sweet, 
but  it  was  the  best  I  could  do.  If  you 
like  it,  I  am  satisfied." 

He  kissed  her,  and  in  that  moment  she 
clung  to  him  as  she  returned  his  embrace, 
as  two  cling  together  in  the  face  of  death. 

In  a  few  moments  he  had  gone,  and  she 
sank  back  on  the  couch  with  closed  eyes. 

A  few  minutes  went  by,  and  then  one  of 
the  servants  came  in  with  a  salver. 

There  were  some  letters  on  it  for  Rhys, 
also  an  English  paper  sent  out  by  post. 

She  laid  the  letters  down  beside  her; 
then  idly  opened  the  paper.  She  had 
turned  to  the  inner  sheet,  and  then  sud- 
238 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

denly  a  short  paragraph  caught  her  eye. 
It  contained  the  words  "Carlingford 
Towers,"  and  she  read — 

"We  deeply  regret  to  announce  the 
death  of  Bruce  Challoner,  Esq.,  late  of 
Carlingford  Towers,  which  took  place 
very  suddenly  at  his  home  last  night. 

"The  deceased  gentleman  had  for  a 
long  time  suffered  from  heart  disease,  and 
it  is  supposed  that  this  was  the  cause  of 
death. 

"He  was  discovered  by  his  servants 
early  in  the  morning  sitting  in  a  chair  in 
the  picture-gallery  which  runs  the  entire 
length  of  the  south  wing.  He  was  then 
dead,  and  it  is  thought  that  death  must 
have  occurred  about  eleven  o'clock  the 
previous  night.  An  inquest  will  be  held 
in  due  course." 

Flora  read  to  the  end.    Then  she  rose 
239 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

to  her  feet,  crushing  the  paper  in  one 
hand.  She  felt  that  she  was  going  mad, 
that  her  head  would  burst.  Bruce  dead! 
Then  she  had  murdered  him  that  night 
in  the  gallery,  murdered  him  as  surely  as 
if  she  had  taken  knives  or  poison  to  do  it 
with.  After  ten  years  of  devotion,  of 
care,  lest  a  breath  should  blow  too  hardly 
on  him,  she  had  killed  him — stabbed  him 
to  death  with  her  words,  or  with  the  sight 
of  her  kiss  given  to  another! 

She  was  a  murderess! 

She  could  not  live  any  longer.  Bruce's 
death  had  always  seemed  to  her  to  be  the 
end  of  the  world,  even  if  it  had  happened 
naturally.  But  she  had  killed  him. 
What  could  she  do  now?  She  wanted 
to  get  away  from  consciousness,  to  die  as 
soon  as  possible.  She  must,  she  could 
not  live  with  that  thought,  that  knowledge 
240 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

that  she  had  murdered  Bruce.  How 
could  she  die,  how  could  she  get  rid  of 
herself,  get  rid  of  this  staring,  awful  fact 
facing  her  brain?  It  so  stunned  her  she 
could  not  call  her  ordinary  thoughts  to- 
gether. There  were  poisons,  and  people 
hanged  themselves,  but  she  did  not  know 
how  to  do  it,  only  she  knew  she  must. 

For  a  moment  that  idea  failed  her,  and 
she  thought  of  Bruce.  All  the  picture  of 
her  love,  her  devotion,  her  care,  her  suf- 
fering through  those  ten  years,  rose  and 
faced  her  like  the  open  pages  of  a  book, 
and  now  it  had  ended  like  this;  she  had 
killed  him.  It  was  all  so  useless;  every- 
thing she  had  done  for  ten  years  was  now 
blotted  out;  at  the  end  she  had  murdered 
him. 

He  had  died  alone  there  in  the  gallery 
after  she  had  left,  no  one  to  help  him  or 
241 


THE    LIFE     SENTENCE 

tend  him;  died  in  that  great  suffering, 
and  alone,  after  he  had  forgiven  her  and 
let  her  go! 

She  had  sought  a  little  happiness  after 
ten  years'  service,  and  it  had  been  given 
her,  burdened  with  this  awful  guilt,  that 
would  be  a  curse  to  her  till  she  died. 

Could  she  ever  sleep  again  with  that 
picture  before  her  of  Bruce  sitting  alone, 
deserted,  dying  in  the  gallery? 

"It  is  not  fair;  my  God,  it  is  not  fair!" 

Her  anguish  was  so  great  now  she 
only  longed  for  extinction,  but  as  her 
thoughts  sought  blindly  amongst  means  of 
self-destruction,  they  came  suddenly  upon 
the  image  of  Rhys  whom  in  her  madness 
she  had  forgotten. 

"Rhys?  If  he  comes  back  now  to  find 
me  dead,  what  will  he  suffer?" 

This  query  stood  before  her  brain,  and 
she  repeated  it  many  times  without  under- 


THE     LIFE     SENTENCE 

standing  it.  Only  vaguely  she  knew  now 
she  must  not  think  of  destroying  herself. 

She  sank  down  on  the  couch,  staring 
with  vacant  eyes  before  her,  only  seeing 
the  quiet  figure  of  Bruce  sitting  alone  in 
the  moonlit  gallery. 

When  Rhys  came  back  he  found  her 
still  sitting  there  motionless,  as  a  figure 
carved  in  stone. 

"What  is  it,  my  darling?  Flora,  what 
has  happened?" 

"I  murdered  him.  Oh,  Rhys,  think 
what  it  means!  Read  it,  read  it!"  And 
she  pushed  the  paper  into  his  hands. 

In  a  moment  his  eyes  had  fled  over  the 
paragraph. 

"Is  it  not  true?    You  see  I  killed  him." 

"No,  you  did  not.  It  was  the  disease; 
the  paper  says  so.  Flora,  you  must  not 
take  it  like  that." 

"Rhys,  I  can't  bear  it;  do  let  me  die 


THE    LIFE    SENTENCE 

now!  I  waited  till  you  came  back,  be- 
cause— because  I  did  not  want  you  to  find 
me  dead ;  but  let  me  go  now.  I  can't  be 
happy  ever  as  long  as  I  live." 

The  man  put  his  arms  round  her,  but 
their  magic  power  was  gone  now.  It 
could  not  reach  her  through  that  sense  of 
guilt  that  enwrapped  her  and  was  chilling 
her  to  death. 

lie  was  afraid  for  her  reason,  he  talked 
to  her,  comforted  her,  consoled  her,  told 
her  over  and  over  again  he  could  not  see 
her  fault,  told  her  whether  she  wished  to 
Hie  or  not  she  had  to  live  for  him. 

At  last  the  tears  came  in  a  blinding 
flood  to  her  eyes,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  he  was  glad  to  see  a  woman  cry. 

"If  you  wish  it,  I  will  try  to  go  on  liv- 
ing," she  said  at  last,  between  her  tearing 
sobs.  "But  our  happiness  is  dead.  Oh, 
Rhys,  how  could  we  be  so  foolish  as  to 
244 


think  we  had  escaped  and  could  enjoy? 
iWe  knew  we  were  in  prison  for  ever." 

"Don't  cry  so,  my  darling,  you  will  kill 
yourself." 

There  was  silence  broken  only  by  her 
weeping.  Then  that  also  stopped.  The 
man  held  her  close  to  him,  stroking  her 
hair,  pressing  his  lips  to  her  forehead. 

After  a  time  her  voice  broke  the  still- 
ness again.  It  was  quite  clear  and  calm: 
the  voice  of  reason. 

"It  was  all  useless  1  We  could  not  es- 
cape! It  was  the  life  sentence  1" 


FINIS 


245 


The 


And  the 


Underwood   alone   typifies 
Typewriter     Supremacy 

Proved  by  all  world's  records 
ffThe  Machine  you  will  Eventually  Buy" 

Underwood  Building  New  York 


The  Night 
of  Temptation 

By  VICTORIA  CROSS 

Author  of 
"LIFE'S  SHOP  WINDOW,"  "FIVE  NIGHTS," etc. 


This  book  takes  for  its  keynote  the  self- 
sacrifice  of  woman  in  her  love.  Regina,  the 
heroine,  gives  herself  to  a  man  for  his  own 
sake,  for  the  happiness  she  can  give  him. 
He  is  her  hero,  her  god,  and  she  declines 
to  marry  him  until  she  is  satisfied  that  he 
cannot  live  without  her. 

The  London  Athenaeum  says:  "Granted 
beautiful,  rich,  perfect,  passionate  men  and 
women,  the  author  is  capable  of  working 
out  their  destiny." 


The  Macaulay  Company,  Publishers 

15  West  38th  Street  New  York 


THE  WHIP 

By  RICHARD  PARKER 

NOVELIZED  FROM  CECIL  RALEIGH'S   GREAT  ENG- 
LISH MELODRAMA  OF  THE  SAME  NAME 


The  story  that  has  thrilled  London  for  two 
solid  years  now  appears  in  America  for  the 
first  time,  giving  a  true  picture  of  the  notor- 
ious entanglements  in  which  the  British 
sporting  nobility  are  often  involved.  But 
in  spite  of  the  intrigue  and  fraud  practiced 
by  Capt.  Sartoris  and  his  adventuress  friend 
the  story  ends  the  way  you  wish  it  to. 
Critics  all  agree  that  "THE  WHIP"  con- 
tains more  thrills  to  the  page  than  any  other 
novel  published  for  years. 

Beautifully  illustrated  with  pictures  of  real  people,  as  they 
appear  in  the  play. 


The  Macaulay  Company,  Publishers 

15  West  38th  Street  New  York 


The  CROWN  NOVELS 

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HER  SOUL  AND  HER  BODY,  By  Louise  Closser  Hale 

The  struggle  between  the  spirit  and  the  flesh  of  a  young  girl  early 
in  life  compelled  to  make  her  own  way.  Exposed  to  the  temptations  of 
life  in  a  big  city,  the  contest  between  her  better  and  lower  natures  is 
described  with  psychological  analysis  and  tender  sympathy.  Absorbingly 
interesting. 

HELL'S  PLAYGROUND,  by  Ida  Vera  Simonton 

This  book  deals  with  primal  conditions  in  a  land  where  "there  ain't 
no  ten  commandments";  where  savagery,  naked  and  unashamed,  is  not 
confined  to  the  blacks.  It  is  a  record  of  the  life  in  the  African  tropics 
and  it  is^  a  powerful  and  fascinating  story  of  a  scene  that  has  rarely 
been  depicted  in  fiction. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  No.  47,  by  J.  Storer  Clouston 

This  is  a  most  ingenious  detective  story — a  thriller  in  every  sense 
of  the  word.  The  reader  is  led  cleverly  on  until  he  is  at  a  loss  to 
know  what  to  expect,  _  and,  completely  baffled,  is  unable  to  lay  the  book 
down  until  he  has  finished  the  story  and  satisfied  his  perplexity. 

THE    SENTENCE    OF    SILENCE,     by    Reginald     Wright 

Kauffman 

AUTHOR  op  "THE  HOUSE  OF  BONDAGE,"  ETC. 

By  "The  Sentence  of  Silence"  is  meant  that  sentence  of  reticence 
pronounced  upon  the  subject  of  sex.  That  which  means  the  continuance 
of  the  human  race  is  the  one  thing  of  which  no  one  is  permitted  to 
speak.  In  this  book  the  subject  is  dealt  with  frankly. 

THE  GiRL  THAT   GOES   WRONG,    by   Reginald  Wright 

Kauffman 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  HOUSE  OF  BONDAGE." 

The  inexpres_sible  conditions  of  human  bondage  of  many  young 
girls  and  women  in  our  cities  demand  fearless  and.  uncompromising  war- 
fare. _  The  terrible  peril  that  lingers  just  around  the  corner  from  every 
American  home  must  be  stamped  out  with  relentless  purpose. 

TO-MORROW,   by  Victoria  Cross 

Author  of  "Life's  Shop  Window,"  etc. 


stories. 


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Crown  Series  at  the  same  price;  or  they  can  be  obtained  from  thf 
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THE  LIFE  SENTENCE,  by  Victoria  Cross 

A  beautifully  written  story,  full  of  life,  nature,  passion,  and  pathos. 
A  splendid  vitality  glows  throughout  this  novel,  whose  characters  are 
depicted  with  graphic  intensity.  "The  Life  Sentence"  proclaims  anew 
the  author's  power  of  insight  into  human  nature. 

THE  LURE  OF  THE  FLAME,  by  Mark  Danger 

"The  book  carries  a  lesson  for  women  that  all  should   learn. 

"It  is  the  experience  of  one  who  abandoned  the  path  of  virtue. 
The  downward  path,  at  first  attractive,  was  swift  and  fatal.  The 
author  has  handled  a  difficult  subject  with  great  force  and  boldness 
and  has  eliminated  much  that  is  defiling  without  losing  its  effectiveness." 
^—Boston  Globe. 

THE  FRUIT  OF  FOLLY,  by  Violet  Craig 

Throbbing  with  human  emotion,  this  book  is  the  record  of  one 
woman's  mistake.  The  principal  scenes  are  laid_  in  present  day  New 
York,  and  no  more  powerful  commentary  on  life  in  our  big  centers  has 
been  written  in  a  long  time. 

A  WORLD  OF  WOMEN,  by  J.  D.  Beresford 

Romantic  and  dramatic  are  the  situations  in  this  novel.  The  book 
is  like  a  dream-garden  peopled  with  women  of  moving  humanity  who 
find  themselves  in  a  situation  never  before  conceived.  As  a  result, 
their  impulses  and  emotions  find  vent  in  entirely  original  ways. 

THE  WHIP,  by  Richard  Parker 

Novelized  from  Cecil  Raleigh's  great  Orury  Lane  melodrama  of  the 
same  name. 

BEAUTIFULLY  ILLUSTRATED  WITH  PICTURES  FROM  THE  PLAY 

.  This  big  love  story  of  English  sporting  society  is  crammed  full 
of  dramatic  incidents.  t  "The  Whip"  strikes  an  answering  chord  of 
sympathy  and  interest  in  every  reader.  England  and  America  have 
voted  it  the  big  hit  of  the  decade. 

ROMANCE,  by  Acton  Davies 

The  World'*  Greatest  Love  Story 
Based  on  Edward  Sheldon's  Play  Fully  Illustrated 

Filled  to  overflowing  with  the  emotional  glamor  of  love,  "Romance" 
is  the  romance  of  a  famous  grand  opera  singer  and  a  young  clergy- 
man. Despite  their  different  callings  they  are  drawn  together  by.  a 
profound  and  sincere  love_.  In  the  hour  of  trial  the  woman  rises  to 
sublime  heights  of  self-denial. 

Wherever  you  bought  this  volume  you  can  purchase  any  other  of  the 
Crown  Series  at  the  same  price;  or  they  can  be  obtained  from  tht 
•publishers. 

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FAMOUS   BOOKS  BY 
WELL  KNOWN  AUTHORS 

THE  DANGEROUS  AGE,  by  Karin  Michaelis 

Here  is  a  woman's  soul  laid  bare  with  absolute  frankness. 
Europe  went  mad  about  the  book,  which  has  been  translated  into 
twelve  languages.  It  betrays  the  freemasonry  of  womanhood. 

MY   ACTOR   HUSBAND,   Anonymous 

The  reader  will  be  startled  by  the  amazing  truths  set  forth  and 
the  completeness  of  their  revelations.  Life  behind  the  scenes  is 
strippd  bare  of  all  its  glamor.  Young  women  whom  the  stage 
attracts  should  read  this  story.  N  There  is  a  ringing  damnation  in  it. 

MRS.  DRUMMOND'S  VOCATION,  by  Mark  Ryce 

Lily  Drummond  is  an  unmoral  (not  immoral)  heroine.  She  was 
not  a  bad  girl  at  heart;  but  when  chance  opened  up  for  her  the  view 
of  a  life  she  had  never  known  or  dreamed  of,  her  absence  of  moral 
responsibility  did  the  rest. 

DOWNWARD:  "A  Slice  of  Life,"  by  Maud  Churton  Braby 

AUTHOR  OF  "MODERN   MARRIAGE  AND  How  TO  BEAR  IT" 
"  'Downward'  belongs  to   that  great  modern   school   of  fiction  built 
upon   woman's   downfall.      *      *      *      I    cordially   commend   this   bit    of 
fiction  to  the  thousands  of  young  women  who  are  yearning  to  see  what 
they  call  'life.'  " — James  L.  Ford  in  the  N.   Y.  Herald. 

TWO  APACHES  OF  PARIS,  by  Alice  and  Claude  Askew 

AUTHORS  OF  "THE  SHULAMITE,"  "THE  ROD  OF  JUSTICE,"  ETC. 

All  primal  struggles   originate  with  the  daughters  of  Eve. 

This  story  of  Paris  and  London  tells  of  the  wild,  fierce  life  of  the 
flesh,  of  a  woman  with  the  beauty  of  consummate  vice  to  whom  a  man 
gave  himself,  body  and  soul. 

THE  VISITS  OF  ELIZABETH,  by  Elinor  Glyn 

One  of  Mrs.  Glyn's  biggest  successes.  Elizabeth  is  a  charminR 
young  woman  who  is  always  saying  ana  doing  droll  and  daring  things, 
both  shocking  and  amusing. 

BEYOND  THE  ROCKS,  by  Elinor  Glyn 

"One  of  Mrs.  Glyn's  highly  sensational  and  somewhat  erotic 
novels." — Boston  Transcript. 

The  scenes  are  laid  in  Paris  and  London;  and  a  country-house 
party  also  figures,  affording  the  author  some  daring  situations,  which 
she  has  handled  deftly. 

Price  50  cents  per  copy;  Postage  10  cents  extra 

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SIX  WOMEN,  by  Victoria  Cross 

A  half-dozen   of   the   most   vivid   love   stories   that   ever  lit  up  the 
dusk  of  a  tired  civilization. 

LIFE'S  SHOP  WINDOW,  by  Victoria  Cross 

It   tears  the  garments  of   conventionality  from  woman,   presenting 
her   as   she  must   appear   to  the   divine  eye. 

PAULA,  by  Victoria  Cross 

Here  the  author's  fervid  energy  combines  with  a  sense  of  humor 
to   make   a   book   both   vital   and   attractive. 

THE  RELIGION  OF  EVELYN  HASTINGS,  by  Victoria 
Cross 

A   study    of   passion,   but   it   is   passion   that   ennobles   and   brings 
happiness. 

SIX  CHAPTERS  OF  A  MAN'S  LIFE,  by  Victoria  Cross 

There   is   no   mistaking   the   earnestness   of   the   morality   which   it 
enforces. 

A  GIRL  OF  THE  KLONDIKE,  by  Victoria  Cross 

Here   the   author    presents    a   stirring   story   of   love,   intrigue   and 
adventure,  woven  about  a  proud,  independent,  reckless  heroine. 

THE  WOMAN  WHO  DIDN'T,  by  Victoria  Cross 

A  striking,   well-told  story,  fascinating  in   its  hold  on  the  reader. 

ANNA  LOMBARD,  by  Victoria  Cross 

A  bold,  brilliant,  defiant  presentation  of  the  relations  of  men  and 
women. 

THE  ETERNAL  FIRES,  by  Victoria  Cross 

Given   the   soul   of   a   maiden  waiting   for  love,   the  plot   as   it   un- 
folds shows  how  the  heroine  finds  one  worthy  of  her. 

Wherever  you  bought  this  volume  you  can  purchase  any  other  of  the  Crown 
Series  at  the  same  price;  or  they  can  be  obtained  from  the  publishers. 

THE    MACAULAY    COMPANY 
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SIMPLY  WOMEN,  by  Marcel  Prevost 

"Marcel  Prevost,  of  whom  a  critic  remarked  that  his  forte  was 
the  analysis  of  the  souls  and  bodies  of  a  type  half  virgin  and  half 
courtesan,  is  now  available  in  a  volume  of  selections  admirably  trans- 
lated by  R.  I.  Brandon-Vauvillez." — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

GUARDIAN  ANGELS,  by  Marcel  Prevost 

"  'Guardian  Angels'  is  elegance  and  irony — and  only  for  those 
youths  who  are  dedicated  to  sex  hygiene  and  eugenic  lore." — New 
York  Times. 

A  true  picture  of  Parisian  life  with  all  its  glitter  and  fascination. 

WHOSO  FINDETH  A  WIFE,  by  J.  Wesley  Putnam 
Being   an  answer  to   Hall   Caine's 
"The  Woman  Thou  Gavest  Me" 

Elizabeth  Ferris  marries  without  love.  How  she  comes  to  a 
broader  conception  of  life  and  to  love  her  husband  in  time  to  prevent 
a  tragedy  is  told  in  this  story. 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  NICE  YOUNG  MAN,  by 
Aix.     Joseph  and  Potiphar's  Wife  Up-to-Date 

A  handsome  young  man,  employed  as  a  lady's  private  secretary, 
is  bound  to  meet  with  interesting  adventures. 

HER  REASON,  Anonymous 

A  frank  exposure  of  Modern  Marriage.  "Her  Reason"  shows  the 
deplorable  results  of  the  process  at  work  to-day  among  the  rich,  whose 
daughters  are  annually  offered  for  sale  in  the  markets  of  the  world. 

LIFE  OF  MY  HEART,  by  Victoria  Cross 

How  Love  revenges  herself  on  those  who  disregard  her  plainest 
promptings  is  the  theme  of  this  novel,  full  of  humor,  pathos,  and  fidelity 
to  the  facts  of  life. 

THE  NIGHT  OF  TEMPTATION,  by  Victoria  Cross 

The  self-sacrifice  of  woman  in  love.  The  heroine  gives  herself  to 
a  man  for  his  own  sake.  He  is  her  hero,  her  god,  and  she  declines  to 
marry  him  until  satisfied  that  he  cannot  live  without  her. 

THE  LAW  OF  LIFE,  by  Carl  Werner 

Helen  Willouehby  is  beautiful  and  attractive.  Among  her  lovers 
there  are  two,  both  strong,  both  determined  to  win  her,  who  presently 
enter  into  a  bitter  rivalry  for  her  hand. 

Wherever  you  bought  this  volume  you  can  purchase  any  other  of  the  Crown 
Series  at  the  same  price;  or  they  can  be  obtained  from  the  publishers. 

THE    MACAULAY    COMPANY 
15  West  38th  Street,  New  York 

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